


Cornish Caravans

by M3zzaTh3M3z



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Bad Parenting, Beaches, Camping, Chance Meetings, Cornwall, Driving, I hope, M/M, Prank Wars, Some Humor, Some angst, Stargazing, Summer, in theory at least
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-15
Updated: 2016-01-09
Packaged: 2018-04-14 22:21:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 22,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4582269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/M3zzaTh3M3z/pseuds/M3zzaTh3M3z
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The story of Castiel's first small rebellion, summer romance, stupid caravans, beaches, prank wars and Gabriel's never ending hatred of crocs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sweet or Sour

**Author's Note:**

> Ok so this was meant to be just some drabbles inspired by my holiday in Cornwall but a plot accidentally formed oh well.  
> Points to remember in case I don't make it clear enough:  
> 1\. Castiel and Gabriel are American but Sam and Dean are English (no they don't have that stupid 'British' accent people do on TV)  
> 2\. It's set in Cornwall which is in the SouthWest of England and is like Devon but no city and more rocks on the beaches pretty much. If you don't know what Devon is like just think rural England with cows and all that.  
> 3\. Baby is like normal but the pimpmobile has the wheel on the right because England  
> 4\. Sweet or sour is game you play in the car where you wave at people and if they wave back they're sweet and if they don't they're sour. You need to get the most sweets to win.  
> I think that's all. Enjoy!

"Not long now Cassie."

Castiel continued staring out the window at the passing fields and barely reacted to his brother's words.

"C'mon," needled Gabriel. "I know you're annoyed at Dad for not coming but you're gonna enjoy Cornwall, really!"

"He said he'd be around this summer."

Gabriel sighed and tapped his fingers on the steering wheel of the rental car. "He will be," Gabriel eventually said. "We've been over this. We're in England for a few weeks so they'll be plenty of time for him to be with us."

"Hmm."

Castiel still felt weird in the passenger seat on the left, even after several hours driving from Bristol. The 'pimpmobile,' as Gabe had named it, felt oppressively closed in and warm. Opening the window made little difference except to make his ears throb.

"Open the other window."

"Sure thing kiddo." Gabe wound down the drivers window and the throbbing subsided.

In silence they drove along the narrow Cornish lanes shaded by leafy trees, listening to the wind rushing past.

Castiel had memorised the route to the caravan park weeks ago, back when he thought Dad was coming and it would be an exciting family holiday, not a week stuck in what was basically a small metal box with his annoying brother. Because he had memorised the route, he noticed instantly when Gabriel took a wrong turning, taking them nearer the sea than they wanted.

"This isn't the way," he pointed out. "You shouldn't have turned off that road."

"I know," replied Gabe casually. "But this way's better, we'll get to see the sea!" His smile betrayed his childish excitement.

"Dad said to drive straight to the campsite following the directions he gave us!" Castiel turned to Gabe, his glare full of accusation. "Yeah, well, the upside of Dad ditching us is that he can't tell what we're doing." Gabriel grinned at his little brother. "So feel free to break a few rules. Stick your head out the window or something, I don't care."

"Dad said to always keep all of you inside the car," mumbled Castiel, fully aware that he sounded like a child, but unable to stop himself. He always did what Dad said, even if he couldn't understand the reasoning behind it. 'The Lord works in mysterious ways,' their father was fond of saying, and since a young age Castiel had assumed that applied to Dad as well. Not that there was anything confusing about not sticking your neck out of a moving car.

Gabriel snorted derisively and accelerated the car, but huffed in frustration when they rounded a corner and were forced to slow down by the large black car in front. "Hey, is that an Impala?" he asked.

Castiel shrugged. Cars didn't interest him. Neither did the hedge he was morosely watching as it sped past but at least it didn't require effort.

"I'm pretty sure that's got the wheel on the left, maybe they're American too?"

Castiel still didn't care, but the hedge was getting seriously boring so he shifted slightly to look forwards. There was an old style black car with a huge roof box in front of them and, when they turned a corner, he could just about see a dark haired man and a blonde woman in the front. It was hard to tell if there was anyone in the back, but that question was answered when a single arm suddenly snaked out of the left hand rear window, narrowly avoiding being smacked by the hedge. Castiel watched as the stranger's hand tentatively snuck out again and, when the road widened again, shot out with the rest of the arm straight up in the air.

There was no reason why, but there was something compelling about the sight of a single arm, plaid sleeve flapping, held up with a closed fist as the cars sped along the road. Castiel was illogically transfixed when the person, whoever they were, moved down their arm and began to slip their fingers through the air, rippling their hand and playing in the wind. There was something joyful and carefree about the action. He began to wonder what it would feel like.

Even though his mind was screaming how disappointed Dad would be if he ignored the warnings he was given, Castiel found himself slipping his hand into the airstream.

Instantly is was forced backwards by the rush of wind, but after a second he regained control and thrust his hand straight up, hand balled in a fist as the impala passenger had done. He grinned at the thrill such a simple thing could give and the grin widened when he saw the other plaid clad arm had readopted the pose. When that person held onto the top of the Impala, Castiel mimicked them, when they returned to playing their hand through the air, he copied as well, marvelling at how a simple tilt could send it crashing down or soaring up. When the passenger felt offended enough by the woods they were driving through to give the the finger, Castiel hesitated for a moment (Dad would be furious if he knew) but then screwed up his courage and also held up his middle finger, although a bit lower down because he didn't want to be rude to anyone. And because of this, when the cars slowed as they crested the top of the hill, the shining ocean appeared before them and the passengers in the impala wooped so loud it was audible in the pimpmobile, it only seemed natural that Castiel responded in kind.

"See, its fun to bend the rules occasionally!" Gabe piped up, beaming at the blinding light reflecting off the ocean. Castiel suddenly became very self conscious and quickly drew in his hand.

"Dad's gonna be mad now..." he mumbled.

"Relax!" laughed Gabe. "Like I tell him anything."

That didn't exactly console Castiel, he always felt that Dad would be able to tell anyway when he did something wrong and he was about to tell Gabe that, but he was interrupted.

"I think your friend is playing sweet or sour with you." Gabriel nodded towards the Impala and Cas turned to look. The plaid wearing passenger in back must have twisted around, because now their right hand was sticking out of the window and waving frantically at the pimpmobile. "Go on, wave back!" Gabriel urged him. "I would but I need these hands for driving, so it's up to you."

"But Dad said-" Castiel began to protest, but he was cut off.

"Are you really going to make that random stranger think you're sour just because of what Dad told you when you were little and hardly applies anymore?" asked Gabriel, apparently unaware that this seemed perfectly reasonable to Castiel. "I knew you were desperate for his approval but you really need to calm it down a bit. Or stop being so calm and finally have your teenage rebellion phase."

Castiel's stomach jolted a little at that, not only because Gabe had hit the nail on the head but because if he wasn't careful he would get a prank filled lesson again. The last time, when Gabriel had been protesting about Castiel's repeated attempts to cut more sugar from their diet (Dad had told him to) had been bad enough.

However, it wasn't the threat of another trickster style lessons that made him stick his hand out again and wave back. It was the fact that the impala passenger was not only still waving, but had forced their other hand out and was waving it as well. It made Castiel smile to think that there was someone so enthusiastic about playing sweet or sour and that, in addition to his own desire to feel the rush of wind again, made him finally wave back.

Unfortunately, the impala turned off the road just as he did so and Castiel couldn't be sure if his reply was even seen. He frowned slightly.

"Not to worry Cassie," said Gabriel brightly. "At least we'll know you're a sweetie!" He laughed as Castiel rolled his eyes.

"Gabriel," said Cas suddenly. "We're heading into Looe, we've gone too far."

"Really?"

"Yes. I think we should have followed the impala down that lane."

"Alright then, I'll turn around. Ugh that's so annoying!"

Castiel rolled his eyes again as Gabriel complained about the confusing nature of Cornwall, Britain and directions in general. Castiel tuned out most of this and concentrated on the memory of the wind rushing through his hands.

 

It was another 20 minutes of aimlessly driving around tiny lanes before they finally reached Seaton Caravan Park. Gabriel cheered but Cas barely reacted. He'd fallen back into his dark mood of 'I hate this' again.

"Right, I'll go and sort it out in reception," announced Gabriel. "If anyone asks, remember to tell them Dad's just gone to the bathroom or something, alright?"

"Lying's a sin," responded Castiel automatically.

Gabriel sighed. "Yeah well Dad told us to, OK, so just deal with it."

There wasn't a lot Castiel could say to argue against that, so he say in stony silence as Gabriel walked up to the shop/reception. Instead of his usual bounce he'd adopted the confident, purposeful stride he used when trying to seem older than his 17. Despite his height, it actually worked a surprising amount of the time, although that may also be to do with the charm he was able to lay on.

Safe in the knowledge that his older brother could sort it out, Castiel observed the caravan park.

'Park' was kind of an overstatement, it was more like just 2 reasonably flat normal fields with a straight road connecting them, though there was a small playground in one corner. There was also a bathroom block, several water taps, a couple of caravans and not a lot else. Probably why Dad had chosen it. Cheap and not a lot of nosy people about asking questions like why a 17 year old was in charge of a caravan and a 16 year old when the law clearly states someone over the age of 21 is needed. The Bible said you have to follow the law, but when Dad had broken the news that he wasn't going with them he'd assured Castiel that this didn't count.

"Sorted," announced Gabriel, reappearing inside the pimpmobile.

"That was quick," remarked Castiel as they began to drive along the single track.

"Yeah well the girl there was only about 15 and was busy on tumblr, she barely looked at me and just told me the pitch. I could have said I was 50 and she wouldn't have noticed. Oh, hang on, there we are!"

Gabriel stopped the car in front of the caravan that was in the furthest corner of the field, right where Dad had requested it. The nearest caravan was halfway along the hedge, nearer the entrance.

Gabriel whistled appreciatively. "Nice."

Castiel shrugged. He didn't really care what the caravan was like, he'd have a rubbish time anyway.

"Let's get unpacking then!" Gabriel bounced out of the pimpmobile and opened up the boot. They'd each bought a single suitcase to make the plane journey from Kanas manageable. Neither of them had many clothes so most of their cases were taken up with things like books or DS games.

"Hey, Cas, come in here, it's really cool!" Gabe called from inside the caravan. He poked his head out the door and grinned when he confirmed Castiel was following.

"It's going to be a good week!"

 

Castiel had never been inside a caravan but he was reckoned this one was fairly typical. Lots of cupboards tucked away in strange places, seats that could somehow fold around to make beds, a small stove and minifridge, even a minuscule bathroom Gabriel had told Castiel was strictly for emergencies.

"Shotgun this one!" Gabe announced when he realised the seats at the front could form what was nearly a double bed. "You can have the table one."

Castiel couldn't see any point in arguing, except for maybe Gabe should have the small bed to match his size, but that would have started up a whole other argument he really couldn't be bothered with right now. He just sullenly began to unpack. It didn't take long to put away their belongings and once that was done Gabriel realised they needed to fetch the water, connect up the electricity and get some basic food from the park store. A quick game of rock paper scissors meant Castiel was given a fiver to go grab some bread, milk, cereal and things like that.

As he walked down to the reception/store, he kept his eyes on the concrete path and started kicking along a stone. Stupid Cornwall. Stupid Britain actually. Stupid caravans. Stupid 'family holiday.'

Stupid stone, rolling off the path onto the grass. Castiel followed it, veering onto the soft green scruff, still glaring at the ground, and walked straight into a very solid somebody. He looked up.

"Hey, sorry, are you alright?" asked the boy Castiel had walked into, straightening out his rumbled plaid shirt. His accent was probably English as far as Castiel could tell, but he had no idea which area it meant.

"Yes, I'm fine," replied Castiel, staring more than he should. How could one boy have that many freckles, or have eyes that green?

The boy smiled brightly. "We just got here, what about you?"

"We also just arrived." Castiel dragged his eyes away from the boy and surveyed the area. They were stood outside a caravan that looked the same as his about halfway down the field. A black car was parked next to it and a blonde woman was helping a dark haired man unload.

"Cool. Who are you with?" the boy asked.

"My brother and I," replied Castiel. "And my father of course," he added after a moment's hesitation.

"Family holiday for you as well huh?" The boy grinned. "Awesome."

Castiel awkwardly smiled back, it seemed to be expected.

"I'm Dean by the way."

"Castiel."

"Awesome name dude." Dean looked impressed and Castiel felt a warm little glow in his chest. "Where's your caravan?"

"In the top corner." Dean leaned around Castiel to get a better look. "The one with that awesome pimpmobile?"

"Yes," Castiel replied. He frowned a little, his usual reaction to people who overused words such as 'awesome.' After a moment he realised that it was actually more endearing than irritating so he smiled. "That's how Gabriel refers to the rental car as well."

"Wait, you're the sour from earlier?" asked Dean suddenly. "The one who was copying me in the car?"

Castiel blinked. It took him a moment to realise what Dean was talking about, but when it hit him his face heated up a little. "I did wave back, but by that time you had turned off!" he protested. "I'm not a sour!"

"That's cool," remarked Dean, grinning widely. "So we just randomly had car banter on the way here and now we're like metal box neighbours or something!"

Castiel wondered what 'car banter' was, but before he could ask they were interrupted.

"Dean, can you help your father?" the blonde woman called. "You can make friends later."

"Sorry, gotta go help them," Dean said sheepishly. "See you around, Cas." He turned and started to walk towards the Impala, but then stopped and faced Castiel again. "And don't worry, I knew you were a sweetie not a sour from the start." He flashed a smile and then began to help out for real, leaving Castiel with the pressing question 'had Dean just (rather badly) flirted with him?' racing in his mind.

 

By the time Castiel had composed himself enough to walk to the reception/store, buy all he felt necessary, managed to get the girl he identified as 'Becky' (assuming her nametag was correct) to get of tumblr long enough to let him pay for his food and walked back up to his caravan, he was beginning to suspect the answer was 'yes.' The thought made his stomach twist, but in a good way. Maybe this holiday wouldn't be too bad after all if there was a nice boy like Dean around.

Castiel began to smile as he put away the supplies. The appearance of an inexplicably soaked and grumpy Gabriel only brightened his mood.

"Don't even ask," Gabriel said sharply as he peeled off his shirt. "Oh no, my sweets!" He emptied his jean pockets by dumping a sugary mush into the bin. Castiel smiled, that was at least part of the sugar sucker's stash taken care of. Yes, it was beginning to look like this holiday wouldn't be so bad after all.


	2. Collecting Water

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's more difficult than expected.

"Paper beats rock," Castiel announced, holding out a flat hand a little too smugly for Gabriel's rock's liking. "I win."  
"Yes thanks for that explanation of a basic childish game," muttered Gabriel, moodily shoving his fist into his jean pocket. He sighed. No matter how annoying it was, a promise was a promise. "Fine, you can pick which job you do. Shopping or water?"  
"I will do the grocery shopping," Castiel decided and pointedly ignored Gabriel's groans. Despite the list of 'approved food' Dad had drawn up for them going mysteriously missing, Gabriel suspected his ever diligent little brother had memorised what he was 'allowed' to buy and worse, would actually stick to it. Unfortunately, both Castiel and Dad were the kind of people who thought it was perfectly acceptable to leave the basic staples of nutrition, such as chocolate and lollipops, out of the groceries while leaving in useless things like pasta and vegetables, which meant until he could win a game of rock paper scissors and choose his own chores, Gabriel would be forced to rely on his (admittedly extensive) pocket supplies of sugary goodness.  
He pulled a lollipop out of aforementioned supply and, after expertly removing the wrapper in a single motion, popped it into his mouth. "Here, go get us dinner," he said, handing Castiel a fiver from the cash Dad had given them to last the week (and a little bit for emergencies, which Gabriel was intending to interpret liberally)

With Castiel trundling down to the store, Gabriel turned his attention to filling the water barrel he had found inside the caravan. It had taken him longer than he cared to admit to realise that in order to get running water in the caravan he would have to:  
1\. Get that water barrel and  
2\. Take it to that tap over there so he could  
3\. Fill it with water and  
4\. Bring it back so he could  
5\. Attach the pump  
Although the empty blue barrel was light enough to lift with one finger now, Gabriel wasn't so stupid as to think it would be so easy once it was full. A brief search of the caravan cupboards revealed a weird bent pole thing that could slot around the ends of the plastic barrel so he could pull it along behind him easily.  
With this issue sorted, Gabriel quickly made his way to the tap, feeling a bit proud of himself for Sorting Things Out and being A Responsible Older Brother and all those things Dad had lectured him about. Upon realising this he became acutely embarrassed and reminded himself that actually he didn't care a bit what Dad thought.  
He was so busy reminding himself of this that he barely noticed the other boy walking towards the tap trailing a similar barrel, so he was surprised when suddenly they both arrived at the tap at the same time.  
"Hey," the boy said, giving a smile that should have been kind of goody, but was for some reason ridiculously attractive. Even if the face it had broken on was like, stupidly high up. "You wanna go first?"  
Gabriel took a moment to register that this giant was actually talking to him. "Nah it's fine," he finally replied, inwardly cursing himself for giving the impression he's brain dead or something.  
"Thanks," the giant replied, pulling his barrel right next to the tap. He adjusted the grey beanie that didn't quite cover all of his brown shaggy hair, before beginning to twist the lid off. "Your accent, are you American?"  
"Texas, yeah," Gabriel confirmed, shifting a little closer by leaning against the wall the tap was part of. "What about you, Gigantor?"  
"Devon," Gigantor replied, looking half amused half offended at his nickname. "But Texas, wow, that's like... Cowboys and stuff yeah?"  
"Just call me Gunslinger Gabriel." He added finger pistols and a cheesy wink, inwardly dying. Maybe if his brain didn't turn to mush around nice people he wouldn't have such a reputation as a joker. Not that this guy would know that of course.  
Gigantor laughed as he finally removed the lid and began twisting the tap in instead. "I'm Sam."  
In retrospect, what happened next may have been for the best in the long run, as it did prevent Gabriel from declaring his infatuation right then, or doing something else that would cause a similar level of mortification (which was not exactly unlikely to happen knowing his stupid big mouth)  
However, when he was suddenly soaked by the sudden spray from the tap, his timely rescue from his lack of brain to mouth filter was understandably unappreciated.  
"You sprayed me!" he exclaimed as he felt the icy water seep through his shirt.  
Sam tried to hide his laughter as he struggled to turn off the tap. How he was still bone dry, Gabriel had no idea, but it was deeply unfair. "Sorry dude, it was an accident!"  
"That doesn't mean you should laugh at it," Gabriel replied sulkily. He crossed his arms and fought against the shiver he could feel rising.  
"Sorry..." Sam's continued laughter made it clear that he was in no way regretful for his actions. "You just look so funny, all bedraggled and stuff!"  
Two thoughts flared in Gabriel's mind as he angrily stormed away, painfully aware he probably appeared like a bratty child. One, a trickster always gets even and two, a guy as hot as Sam has no right being such a cute damn need using words like 'bedraggled.'  
Once he returned to the caravan some more thoughts occurred to him: that damn kid had ruining his candy supply and he'd failed to collect any water at all.  
Thanks to his trickster mindset, a simple revenge prank had already formed in Gabriel's mind by the time he had changed into dry clothes and so he bought along their washing up liquid when he returned to his abandoned barrel. He hummed what sounded to him like a suitable spy theme as he filled his water barrel, 'accidentally' wondered past Sam's caravan and, careful to avoid detection, squirted half a bottle of washing up liquid into Sam's caravan's water barrel.  
Mischief managed and with only minimal guilt about possibly making the entire family sick (he honestly had no idea what effect washing up liquid would have on people other than tasting gross) Gabriel jauntily made his way back and connected his own water to the caravan, still humming. Now that he had gotten even, he began to wonder if he could try and make friends with Samsquatch, even if trying for anything more would be pointless. It would be an interesting challenge for the week. With this thought in mind, Gabriel nearly managed to forget about his ruined sweets. Nearly being the key word. It would be a while before he'd forgive Sam for that, no matter how cute he was.  
However, Gabriel wasn't so distracted by the plight of his blood sugar levels that he didn't notice the stupid smile on Castiel's face that certainly wasn't there when he left to but some pasta (who the hell buys pasta when there's candy?) Castiel didn't say anything, but Gabriel wondered if he'd managed to find himself a nice 'friend' (wink wink nudge nudge ect.) already. He hoped so. It was looking like it would be an interesting week for both of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments much appreciated! As are suggestion of what they could do in Cornwall if you know any good attractions  
> Hope you enjoyed! :)


	3. Sand Castles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just in case this word isn't used elsewhere, 'grockles' is a term used (possibly only in Devon I'm not sure) for tourists (usually from London but can be elsewhere) who are really annoying to the residents of the area they are visiting, for example they are usually rubbish at driving and make it difficult for locals to use the services of the town. Technically both the Winchesters and and Novaks are grockles in this fic, but the Winchester's would consider Cornwall close enough to their home (Devon) for them not to count.

3.

Dean awoke to the sound of   
screaming. He jolted upright, or tried to at least. Swearing, he rubbed his head where he had hit it on the low ceiling and looked around in the gloom at his narrow area. It reminded him slightly of a coffin, though he doubted those had sleeping bags for the occupants.  
"Oh good you're awake," Mum said cheerily as he emerged bleary eyed from the top bunk in the caravan. "God, those kids are noisy, did you hear them playing?"  
Dean yawned and stretched in reply. So that's what that noise was, stupid kids, waking him up at whatever time this was.  
"We've already had breakfast, Sam's doing the washing up in the bathroom block and your father is collecting some clean water, seeing as Sammy apparently can't be trusted with that." Mum grimaced slightly at the memory of 'extreme clean lemon' flavoured Pot Noodle before continuing. "Go and brush your teeth, I'll do you some toast and then we'll be ready to go soon enough."  
"Thanks," Dean said, grabbing his toothbrush and clothes off the shelf and opening the caravan door. Then he stopped. "Wait, where are we going again?"  
Mum sighed. "Seaton, dear, remember? The beach."  
Oh yeah, he'd forgotten about that. It was already shaping up to be warm and sunny, the perfect weather for a day at the beach. With that in mind he sprinted to the bathroom block and got ready in record time. Excitement for the beach was nearly enough to block out the slight twinge of disappointment at not being able to see Castiel again, but maybe he'd be around in the evening. Fueled by that thought, and the prospect of Seaton, Dean grinned to himself and sprinted back up to the caravan. 

"Bloody grockles!" repeated Dad for what seemed like the thousandth time as they finally managed to park the car. Grockles were Dad's number one enemy and he blamed them for, among other things, the lack of parking spaces, the time it took to get anywhere and probably global warming as well. Sam had tried to point out that technically they were grockles as well, at least this week, but Dean had silenced this hearsay by the means of a quick elbow to the stomach. The fact that he had a point was irrelevant, Dean also enjoyed blaming grockles for everything. Never mind the fact that they were pretty much crucial to the local economy, they were an evil everyone in the South West was plagued with for several months of the year and damned if he wasn't going to complain about them.   
"Calm down dear," Mum gently scolded as they all piled out the Impala (which was really much too large for the parking space) "Right, the beach is just across the road, everyone pick up a bag."  
Dean grabbed the picnic basket and sprinted to the beach, barely remembered to check for traffic, and stopped just short of the grey sand.   
It wasn't a large beach, but Dean could tell from a glance that there would be plenty of room once the tide had gone out . The sand upon closer inspection wasn't exactly sand, but rather a mix of larger and smaller slate-like flat and brittle stones, (though in some places they had broken down into real sand) A broad shallow river snaked it's way diagonally across Seaton Beach, cutting it roughly in half, already filled with squealing children enjoying the morning sun. The Western side of the beach led into grey rocks jutting out of the cliff and had a small cafe a bit further up while the Eastern side was closed in by a wall following the curve of the road. The main attraction, the great ocean itself, was bright blue, possibly even the second bluest blue ever to blue (the bluest was a certain dark haired American boy's eyes)  
In other words, it was a great place to spend the hot summer's day.   
With practised efficiency, Dean sprinted to the optimum position on the beach and dumped the picnic basket, claiming it as his territory.   
"Hurry up!" he called to Sam who was barely onto the beach.   
"Coming!" Sam replied and sprinted towards him. He dropped his bag at Dean's feet and grinned. "Last one in's a loser!"  
Both boys pulled off their clothes, revealing their identical red swimming trunks, and tore down to the waves.   
"I win!" they both announced after surfacing, laughing as the water cascades down from their hair.   
"Dude no way," added Dean. "That was totally me!"  
"Yeah right, loser," replied Sam, shaking his head and sending droplets flying.   
"Shut up, bitch." When Sam began retort, he was greeted with a mouthful of saltwater.   
"Jerk!" he managed to splutter and lunged. Dean dodged with ease, but was caught off guard by an unseen wave and ended up dunked anyway.   
"That was your fault!" he told a laughing Sam and launched another attack. The tussle lasted for quite some time and was only called off when they were both laughing too much to continue. Dean was so busy attempting to avoid drowning he nearly forgot the bright blue eyes from yesterday. Almost.   
Several hours later and Dean was nearly getting tired. It wasn't surprising really, after swimming what felt like miles, thoroughly exploring the rocks along the West side and catching a crab with his bare hands (he was proud of that and more than a little disappointed when told it was 'too small to eat'. Not that he actually liked eating crab, but that was besides the point) in addition to all of the various other activities beaches offer.   
Now the beach was beginning to clear, most people decided that 3pm was about the latest they could put up with shrieking children and seagulls (which was louder was still unconfirmed) This was perfect for what Dean was planning to do next. He held up an arm for a moment and smiled. Just right.   
"Sam, pass that bag," he said, walking up to his little brother who was sprawled out on a towel, reading.   
Sam didn't seem to hear, so Dean sighed and nudged him with a foot. "Dude, you're lying on my bag."  
"Sorry," Sam mumbled and shifted so he could pass the bag up. He didn't even look up from whatever nerd fest he was enjoying this time.   
"Thanks." Dean eagerly began pulling the contents of the bag out and grinned in anticipation at the mess of purple material and white strings. This would take some unravelling. 

"... And there, you're good to go!"  
"Thanks Dad!"   
"Right, you walk backwards, letting out the string, and I'll hold it here and help you get it up. You remember how to control it?"  
Dean rolled his eyes. "Yes Dad I remember how to fly a kite."  
Dad shook his head disapproving. "Less of the attitude young man." But he was smiling.  
Dean took the handles and did up the right hand strap. The wind didn't seem too strong today but he didn't want a repeat of the time the kite was yanked out of his grasp and he had to scramble up a cliff to retrieve it. Gripping them tightly, he slowly made his way backwards towards the sea. Ouch, some of these rocks were sharper than he thought.   
"Ready?" called Dad from where he was holding the purple kite body. It was a good model, 2.5m Bullet, large enough to pull a man along in the right conditions. Dean had been knocked over by the pull of it more times than he could count.   
"Yep, throw her up!" he yelled back and braced himself. His dad did as he said at just the right moment and a gust of wind filled the kite and sent it soaring high above them. Dean wrestled with it for a second before regaining control. After testing out the wind strength for a minute or so, he began to practice some tricks.   
At first, nothing fancy, just crossing and uncrossing the strings in a simple figure of eight. When he'd reminded himself of the controls, he grew bolder, sending it it small loops that steadily grew larger until it was screaming past the ground on each circle and pulling him so hard he had to dig his heels in. Dean laughed as the wind began to pick up and he began to feel the pull of the kite even more strongly, leading him further up the beach, daring him to go back the other way. It seemed almost like a dance to Dean, and an enjoyable challenge to keep the balance.   
Now he was certain he could lead the dance, he allowed the kite to pull him stronger than ever, but only in the direction he commanded. He began to run, ignoring the scratches on his feet and timed the swoops so that just as the kite soared up, he changed direction and jumped, lifting him a meter or so more into the air. This was why he had waited until there were so few people here, so he could charge around, leaping and laughing, without disturbing anyone.   
Or, at least, that was the plan.   
"Look out!" he yelled as he realised too late he had misjudged his latest jump trick and was seconds from colliding with a black haired teen. They managed to scramble out the way just in time and Dean landed in a pleasantly soft pile of sand. He whistled. "Wow, that was close, sorry I almost hit you."  
"You destroyed my sandcastle," the guy complained, seemly more upset by that than his narrow escape from being crushed.   
"Sorry," replied Dean, standing up and dusting himself off. He turned to look at the unfortunate sandcastle builder and stopped. Screw his life, it was Castiel from the campsite. He was no longer wearing that weird coat, but there was no mistaking those eyes.   
"Oh it's you Dean," remarked Castiel. He seemed unsurprised, or maybe he was just too filled with grief for his destroyed sand architecture to show any other emotions.   
"I - uh - yeah, hey," Dean finally managed, smooth as ever. Castiel had stood up and he really needed to put a shirt on or Dean would not be able to concentrate on the conversation at all. "It was an accident," he added after a moment of awkward silence.   
Castiel nodded gravely and dropped to his knees suddenly. Dean watched with interest as he began scooping up the coarse grey sand with long fingers. "I'm rebuilding it," he explained, apparently aware of Dean's gaze.   
"I could help?" offered Dean quickly, before he could think it through. Stupid, last thing Castiel wanted was the idiot who broke the castle in the first place working on the Mark 2.   
"I'd appreciate that," Castiel said. He looked up and gave Dean an unexpected smile before pulling some paper out of his pocket. "Would you like me to talk you through the blueprints I prepared?"  
"Uh yeah sure," agreed Dean. What kind of person makes blueprints for a freaking sandcastle for goodness sake? "Let me just put away my kite and get my buckets."

In retrospect, letting Sam know that he was building a sandcastle with blueprints was a mistake on Dean's part. Not because Sam teased him about it, oh no, Sam was much too big of a nerd for that. Instead, he decided he would come and help join in with building the damn thing.   
Dean couldn't even protest, not when he sad Castiel's face light up at the prospect of yet another helper. Not that 'but I really wanted to get to know the cute guy by myself' was really a valid reason to get Sam to leave anyway.   
However, being the genius that he was, Dean was able to find a way around the little brother issue, by sending Sam off on imaginary missions to collect various resources from across the beach. This proved very effective, as not only did it mean they had a large supply of building materials at their disposal, but Dean was given a refuge from Sam's constant chatter about turrets and towers and nerdy castle stuff, leaving him time to talk with Castiel. Realising how much he actually liked this odd, intelligent and unexpectedly funny boy was a happy side effect.   
Dean realised he may have made another mistake by sending Sam to get a bucket of water when this simple task somehow resulted Gabriel, Castiel's annoying and mildly grumpy older brother (inexplicably wearing Sam's clothes) joined their little castle building team which foiled any plans Dean may or may not have had to eventually use some of his limited flirting skills. It's quite hard to concentrate on being smooth when there's an older brother right there, apparently with a life goal of breaking the Guinness World Record for most innuendoes in a minute or something. 

When Castiel announced the castle to be almost complete, Dean stepped back to observe it in all it's grainy glory. He had to admit, it was impressive: a huge moat, several towers, drawbridge, turrets, decorative shells. Maybe blueprints weren't such a bad idea after all.   
"This is the last thing!" announced Castiel, holding up a perfectly formed shell. "It needs to be places on the side of that tower." He pointed at the middle spire.   
"I got it!" Gabriel grabbed the shell out of Castiel's hands and hopped over the defensive wall, narrowly avoided structural disaster when he almost forgot to lift his heel.   
"No!" Castiel grabbed Gabriel's hand and yanked him back out of the castle grounds. "I want to do it. This is the perfect shell which needs to be placed in the exact right spot otherwise the castle won't be perfect!"   
Gabriel rolled his eyes but apparently Castiel did things like this a lot because he passed over the shell and sarcastically gestured for him to go ahead.   
Carefully stepping over the various sand defences, Castiel reached out and gently pressed the shell into the tower, before stepping back to admire the effect. The castle was finally finished to his satisfaction.   
"Cool," remarked Sam, nodding appreciatively. "So, what now?"  
Gabriel grinned. "We destroy it!"  
"No!" Dean yelled at the same time as Castiel.   
"I was only joking," huffed Gabriel. "Calm down kiddos!"  
Just then, Mum called out to them from across the beach. "Sam, Dean, we're leaving!"  
"Coming!" replied Sam. "C'mon Dean," he started walked back, but then stopped and turned around. "Um, Gabriel?" he asked awkwardly.   
"Uh huh?" Gabriel didn't bother looking round from the castle.   
"I'm going to need my clothes back," said Sam. "Yours should be fine by now."  
Dean wondered what that was about and made a mental note to ask about it. He stayed where he was for a second, smirking at the sight of his stupidly tall little brother and Castiel's stupidly short big brother walking along the beach together, before starting out after them.   
"Dean, wait a second," Castiel said. "I have something for you."  
Dean was back next to him in an instant, trying to smile too eagerly. "Uh, yeah?" he said, trying for casual and likely missing it by a wide mark.   
"Here..." in a quick, almost furtive movement, Castiel grabbed Dean's hand and pushed something small and hard into it.   
Dean turned over his hand and had a look. The seashell Castiel had finished the castle lay in his palm. "But you need this to make it perfect!" he objected.   
Castiel looked at his feet as a faint flush of pink dusted his cheeks. "I thought, um, since it's, um, perfect, it would, um, suit you?" His words are almost inaudible. "If you don't like it I'll put it back!" he added quickly.   
Dean broke into a wide smile. "It's great Cas," he tells him. "Really awesome."  
Relief and joy light up Castiel's face before he composes himself. "I am glad," he says solemnly. "Now I believe you are required to return to your family. Would you mind if I accompany you?"  
"Sure." Dean slipped the shell into his pocket, but even with it out of sight, the weight of it against his leg made him smile. He wasn't great at looking after souvenirs, but this was one he planned to keep for ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back home now which means access to a computer so I can properly type my fics yay! :)  
> It also means that I won't be continuing this fic until I have finished my main ongoing one, Meddling Baristas Save Angels, which could be about 2 weeks I'm not sure sorry :(  
> Until then, please leave comments and kudos if you'd like me to continue this :) hope you enjoyed!


	4. Seaton Beach

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel's side of the day at the beach

A fluffy towel, warm sand and nobody bothering him; Gabriel was in heaven as he lay on the sand at Seaton beach. At Castiel’s request they’d arrived around nine in the morning, it was now well past noon and even someone as hopped up on sugar as Gabriel were bound to feel a bit tired after a long flight to England, a long drive to Cornwall and then a morning running around at the beach, all the while looking after a little brother prone to bouts of moodiness. He figured he was allowed a little rest after all that.

Rolling his shoulders, Gabriel smiled to himself. He could feel the heat of the sun on his closed eyelids. His toes wiggled further into the sand. Rhythmic waves lulled him into drowsiness. A lazy seagull cawed and –

And suddenly he was shrieking and sitting bolt upright as the stinging, icy water soaked through his shirt.

“Wha-what the hell?” he spluttered, pushing his sopping hair out of his face. He blinked a few times to clear his vision slightly.

“Oh man, I am so sorry!”

As Gabriel’s eyes adjusted to the sudden brightness, he began to see the figure stood in front of him. He scowled when he realised who it was. “What’s your problem, kid?”

“It was an accident, I swear!” exclaimed Sam, for of course it was typical of Gabriel’s luck to be soaked twice by the same cute guy. Sam stood there in just his swimming trunks, awkwardly clutching an empty bucket, long hair plastered to his face and rivulets of water running down his torso. It was only Gabriel’s indignation, and shivering, that meant he wasn’t left staring.

“Serious, you thought you would soak me again?” grumbled Gabriel; standing so he could give Sam the full effect of his glare. Admittedly, it might have been more effective if it wasn’t for the height difference, but from the way Sam unconsciously took a step or too back, it must have worked pretty well the way it was.

“Again?” asked Sam, scrunching up his eyes a little.

Gabriel tried to sigh, but the shiver racing down his body made it a bit less effective. He settled for rolling his eyes instead. “I suppose you go around terrorizing too many people to remember each individual,” he said. “I’m Gabriel. You’re Sam. We met at the campsite. You sprayed me with water.”

Sam’s eyes widened in recognition. “Oh, Gabriel! I’m sorry; I didn’t recognize you before, your hair’s a lot darker now.”

“Yeah well that’s because _somebody_ poured freezing water on it,” Gabriel said, pouting and vaguely wondering if his lips were now blue.

“Look, I really am sorry, I was just rushing to get Dean and Cas the water and then I tripped on that hole and it just went everywhere,” Sam explained in a rush. “Please don’t be too mad!”

Gabriel tried. He really did. But those puppy eyes were too much even for a hardened trickster like himself.

“Fine, I’m not mad,” he relented. That doesn’t mean I can’t get payback, he mentally added.

Sam beamed and Gabriel caught himself almost thinking something soppy. To distract himself, he picked up his towel. “Aw man, it’s damp as well,” he complained.

“Don’t you have any others?” asked Sam with concern.

Gabriel shook his head. “And these are my only clothes. I guess I’ll have to wait for them to dry.”

“Are you alright though?” pressed Sam. “You look kinda cold.”

Gabriel tried a grin, ruined slightly by chattering teeth. “I’m fine!”

“Uh huh…” said Sam sceptically. Then, he reached out, took Gabriel’s wrist with one enormous hand and with the other gently traced a finger up Gabriel’s arm. “These goosebumps kinda say otherwise.”

While the rest of him was still freezing, Gabriel was certain his face must be heating up. “I’m fine,” he repeated, snatching away his arm.

“Wait a second,” Sam ordered and tore off across the beach. Gabriel stared after him, and gently traced the path Sam’s finger had taken up his arm.

 

“Here, take these,” said Sam when he returned a few minutes later, pressing a bundle of clothes and a towel into Gabriel’s hands. “They might be a bit big sorry, but should be alright.”

“It’s fine, really!” he protested, but Sam refused to take them back.

“I’d feel awful if you got sick from being cold because of me,” he explained, and didn’t listen to Gabriel’s arguments that people only get ill from a bit of water in shojou manga.

Eventually Gabriel realised he might as well give in as it was better than standing around shivering. “Ok, you win,” he relented. “But it’s only until my clothes are dry, alright?”

“Sure,” agreed Sam.

Gabriel shook out the clothes so he could have a look at them and see if they would actually fit. Something, no, two large and neon green something’s, tumbled to the floor.

“Oops, I didn’t realise they were caught up in that lot,” said Sam, deftly scooping them up.

“Are they what I think they are?” asked Gabriel in a steely tone, glaring at the offending items.

“Um…” Sam squinted in confused. “Maybe? I don’t know what you think they are, but I’m pretty sure they’re crocs.”

Gabriel pulled a face. “I can’t believe you actually wear those things!”

“What’s wrong with crocs?” asked Sam.

“Everything. Absolutely everything. I hate crocs.”

“Ok… how about you just don’t wear them then?” suggested Sam, clearly put off kilter by the sudden switch in mood.

Realising he was probably coming across as even weirder than he liked to, Gabriel slipped back into his easy smile. “Sure, that could work.”

With that, Gabriel began drying himself off the best he could while still wearing his clothes with the towel. He gripped the lower hem of his tee and raised it an inch before pausing. Modesty wasn’t usually high on his list of concerns but it was hard not to feel at least some reservation when the boy in front of you had an actual six pack and everything, something Gabriel had frequently declared to be impossible in his opinion.

“Are you okay?” Sam asked. His voice, and a violent shiver, pulled Gabriel back to reality.

“Yeah, I’m good,” he said, and then smirked. “It’s just… you gotta pay if you want a show, Sammy boy.” Add a lewd wink and a suggest wiggle of the eyebrows and… viola, one flustered and red faced Sam.

“That wasn’t what – I mean – I just…” he trailed off, looking distinctly awkward. “I’m just going to… go and get some more water…” he finished lamely and picked up his bucket before making a speedy getaway towards to sea.

With some relief, Gabriel quickly changed into Sam’s long shorts and t-shirt. Although, honestly, the kid was so tall the shorts were more like full length trousers and Gabriel was pretty sure he could wear the purple dog shirt as a dress, if he were so inclined. Which set him thinking about how much he could rock a purple dress so he barely noticed Sam returning.

“Um, hey again,” muttered Sam, still slightly red.

Easily flustered, thought Gabriel, his prankster side automatically storing the information for future use.

“Hey, is that bucket full?” he asked.

“Yeah,” nodded Sam. “I’m helping Dean and Castiel make a sandcastle over there.”

Oh yeah, Gabriel had seen the blueprints. “I might come along and help,” he said, turning to look. “As long as you keep that water away from me.”

“Don’t worry,” laughed Sam. “No more soakings from me.”

“Hmm… no offence if I keep my distance a little,” smirked Gabriel. “You seem to have a thing for getting me wet. I bet getting me to take off my clothes was your plan all along!” This time it only took a little raising of the eyebrows to get Sam worked up.

“Just- just c’mon!” he managed and raced off to the sandcastle as fast as he could without another tidal wave from the bucket going everywhere.

 

Gabriel wasn’t usually a big fan of building things that weren’t prank related. Destroying stuff, yes, that he could easily get behind, but he’d never really seen the attraction of making something easily broken like a sandcastle.

So it was to his considerable surprise when he found himself actually enjoying helping the Winchesters and Castiel follow the remarkably detailed blue prints. Of course, he complained about the sand getting everywhere, and threatened to knock it all down every time the wall ended up in the slightly wrong direction and constantly made as many suggestive jokes as he could think of about Castiel and his new crush, Dean, but Gabriel wouldn’t really be Gabriel if he didn’t do all that stuff.

“If I was magic,” he said conversationally as they reached a rare quiet in their work. “If I was magic, I could magic up a massive sandcastle big enough to live in.”

“That would probably collapse,” pointed out Sam.

“Not if it was magic,” argued Gabriel as he carefully patted the sides of one of the towers.

“You would make it wrong,” interjected Castiel from the other side. “I doubt you could follow blueprints by yourself.”

“Also, wouldn’t sand get in all your clothes and stuff?” added Dean.

Sam grimaced. “Ugh, I hate that. It makes you all itchy and stuff.” He rubbed the back of his neck unconsciously. “Stupid sand.”

Gabriel just kept quiet and smiled to himself. He’d just thought of the perfect revenge plan.

 

“Wait up, Gigantor,” Gabriel grumbled as he struggled to keep pace with the giant next to him. They were walking across the beach to Sam’s parents so they could both get their actual clothes on but Sam’s long legs meant he could stride along easily, while Gabriel had to go around every single sandcastle and random hole.

“Dude, I’m walking really slowly here,” complained Sam. “It’s not my fault you’re short.”

“OK first you spill water on me twice and then you insult me? Wow, you must have a lot of friends.”

Sam sighed and slowed down a little more. “The water thing was an accident, ok?”

“Sure it was,” replied Gabriel. “You ‘accidentally’ ruined my sugar supply.”

“What sugar supply?” asked Sam, effortlessly stepping over some child’s attempt to reach Australia, or so Gabriel assumed since he wasn’t quite sure why else a kid would dig such a deep hole.

“The one that’s now in the bin because you’re mean.”

“I don’t even…” Sam trailed off as they reached their destination. “Hey Mum, where’s Dad?” he said.

“He’s just packing up the car,” replied a blonde woman. She was surrounded by packed bags and gave out an overwhelming aura of ‘in control mother.’ Gabriel liked her immediately. “And who’s your friend?”

“I’m Gabriel Novak, nice to meet you,” he said, sticking out his hand politely. One of the few things Dad had taught him that he actually tried to do was make a good impression with adults. If they think you’re a good, responsible kind of guy then they’re much less likely to go and poke their noses into your business and ask awkward questions like ‘where are your parents?’

“I’m Mary,” she said, shaking his hand. “Aren’t you a polite boy? I’m always telling my two to have nice manners but will they listen?”

“Mum…” whined Sam. “Don’t go on like that…”

Mary laughed. “What, you’re worried I’ll embarrass you in front of your cool new friend?”

Sam just rolled his eyes. “Anyway, Gabriel’s just here to get his clothes.”

“Oh yes, they’re just other there.” Mary pointed to the other side of the bags. “I laid them out to dry. I’m so sorry for Sam’s behaviour by the way; I hope he wasn’t too much trouble.”

“It’s fine,” Gabriel assured her. He stepped through the bags to where his clothes were neatly spread out. He began to gather them up in his arms. Right, to get his revenge prank in action, he needed to get back to his own belongings, and then get changed somewhere private. He was just thinking over any non-suspicious ways of doing that when the problem was solved for him when Dean and Castiel finally caught up with them.

Gabriel hadn’t actually been paying attention to what the others were saying as Dean introduced Castiel and Mary fussed over him like mothers tend to do (he had no idea what made his annoying little brother so appealing to adults but they tended to automatically like him) but he snapped to attention when Mary asked if he and Castiel would like to join them for dinner at the pub across the road.

Suddenly, the plan fell together, even better than expected.

“We’d love to, thank you very much,” he replied, using his ‘charm the adults’ voice. As always, it worked. “I’ll go and get my belongings and meet you all in there.”

“I’ll go along with you, Gabe,” said Sam. “I doubt I’ll be allowed inside until I’ve got my clothes on, so you can get your stuff, take it all inside, get changed into your clothes in the pub toilets, then give me my stuff and I can put it on and join everyone inside.”

Gabriel grinned. “Sounds like a plan, Sam-a-lam.”

 

Soon, everyone was sat around a table inside the pub. It was typical of any of the hundreds found in any rural area of Britain: large, but spread out and with a claustrophobically low ceiling and that strange light that, despite the fact that everything is perfectly visible, makes everything seem just a bit too dim to be comfortable, no matter how many lights there actually are. The low chatter of men sat at the bar was a constant background hum.

Gabriel made sure he was sat next to Sam. He wasn’t entirely sure how well his prank would work, so he wanted to have a front row seat, as not to miss any reaction.

He didn’t have to wait long. While automatically cruising through all the normal boring conversation adults like to make when out to eat, he carefully made sure he kept an eye on Sam. It started off small, just a bit of fidgeting. Soon, it advanced to surreptitious scratching, and before too long Sam had bolted off to the bathrooms and didn’t reappear. Gabriel smirked. He’d always known the itching powder he kept in his ‘emergency prank kit’ that he carried at all times would come in useful and revenge was sweet. Everyone else’s perplexed expressions only made it better.

 

As he drove Castiel back to the caravan, Gabriel noticed getting even didn’t feel quite as good as it normally did. He put it down to the fact that technically Sam had soaked him twice but he’d only retaliated once. He ignored the possibility that it was because he was beginning to worry about Sam not wanting anything to do with him ever again, because he would never even begin to worry about something as silly and likely as that. No way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Agh sorry that took for ever and isn't the best, I just wanted to get it done by this point :/ Hope it was ok anyway   
> No idea when next chapter will be I'll try and do it soon though :)  
> Any comments welcome! Hope you enjoyed!


	5. The Bible and the subject of Crocs

Contrary to the belief of his family, Sam was not sulking as they walked along the high Cornish cliffs. Sure, he was scowling, and dragging behind a bit, and not really talking, but that wasn’t sulking. He was just thinking. Or rather, he was plotting how to get back at Gabriel.

It was the day after the events of Seaton Beach, and Sam was still angry at that pint-sized jerk, for that trick with the itching powder. The water had been a complete accident and he’d apologized and everything! He’d even kind of enjoyed building that sand castle, only to be humiliated in front of everyone and made extremely uncomfortable!

Sam continued to brood as the Winchester’s made their way along the cliff path, Dad out in front doggedly following the map and making loud remarks about the cliff structure, Mum following behind snapping pics of everything in sight and Dean ambling along pretending to think it was all lame but likely enjoying the stunning view of the bright blue sea to the left and rolling hills to the right.

“Snap out of it,” said Dean suddenly, turning around.

“What do you mean?” asked Sam with a glare.

Dean rolled his eyes. “Normally you’re striding on ahead going on about the beauty of nature and all that nerdy stuff.”

Sam kicked a stone along the path. “Do not.”                                                   

“You so do. But today you’re just hung up on that guy pranking you and it is really annoying so cheer up.”

 “I thought it was annoying when I enjoy myself on walks.”

“Yeah it is,” admitted Dean. “You’re a little brother so you’re always annoying. But this is possibly worse.”

Sam shrugged. It wasn’t his fault Dean didn’t like him sul- um, thinking, he meant.

“If you’re really wound up about it, just get him back,” Dean suggested and grinned. “I could help, if you wanted?”

“Wouldn’t you be worried about upsetting your new boyfriend?” teased Sam. “I don’t think he’d like it if you’re plotting against his brother.”  
“Shut up,” snapped Dean with a scowl. He slipped his hand into his short’s pocket. “He’s not my boyfriend.”

“Anyway, I’ve got to do this myself,” Sam decided. And then he smiled. He couldn’t start any plans until he got back to the campsite, so that was priority one. There was no point plotting now. “Race you back to the car!” he suddenly announced, and threw himself into a run. Feet pounding, he sucked in deep breaths of the salt-tinged air and grinned to himself. Cornwall wasn’t half bad.

 

“I win!” Sam and Dean both announced as they both slammed their hands against the car at the same time.

“Careful, you’ll hurt Baby!” protested Dean, shoving Sam away. “And I totally won.”

“No you didn’t,” scoffed Sam. “It was me by miles!”

They continued to bicker as they leaned against the hot car and panted. After ten minutes, it became clear that their parents were further behind than expected, so their gazes began to wander around.

“Dude,” said Dean suddenly, and cocked his head towards the small beachside shop shack at the edge of the carpark. “Check out that girl.”

Sam rolled his eyes but turned to look anyway. Then his eyes widened. “Oh, that is perfect!” he exclaimed softly and immediately headed across.

“Hey, how can I help you?” asked the perky red head standing behind the counter.

“Are those really just for anyone to take?” asked Sam, pointing at the crate full of brightly coloured crocs next to the sign that said ‘Help Yourself!’

The girl nodded. “Sure. They’re all broken, or without a pair, or just got left behind on the beach, so we can’t really sell them. Take as many as you want. I don’t get why you’d want them though.”

Sam began picking out the ones that were the most offensive to the eyes. “Oh, they’re not for me, they’re for a friend,” he explained.

The girl looked at him sceptically. “Okay… that sounds fake but okay…”

“Thanks for the crocs!” said Sam as he noticed his parents finally reach the car and began to walk over to them, leaving the red head to wonder why all her customers were so weird.

 

That evening, Dean, Sam, and some girl they had met called Charlie were all hanging out in the play park. It seemed like there were no actually little kids around, and basket swings are great no matter your age, so it had happened without any sort of arrangement.

“I’ll push next,” announced Dean as Charlie began to tire. He hopped off the still rocking swing and narrowly avoided losing his balance all together.

“Thanks,” said Charlie. She was a slim redheaded girl just a bit younger than Sam, wearing a nerd-pride t-shirt. They’d both taken an immediate liking to her. “You boys are heavy, you know that?”

She clambered into the basket next to Sam and arranged her body so that she was in no danger of falling out. “Let’s go!” she ordered and Dean began to push and pull the swing until they were nearly tipping out.

Sam closed his eyes and felt the half hypnotic sensation of gravity increasing and decreasing with each rise. The chains squeaked, Dean’s feet thumped as he jumped to catch the edge and Charlie laughed as they went higher and higher.

“Hello, Dean,” said a low voice, and there was a loud ‘OOF’ and the swing collided with something. Sam’s eyes snapped open and he sat up.

Sprawled on the floor in front of the swing was Dean, loomed over by Castiel in a trench coat, an expression of slightly guilty bewilderment and, Sam was pleased to note, one neon orange croc and one with the pattern of a shark’s mouth.

“Dean? You okay?” asked Sam and he jumped out and knelt on the floor next to his brother.

“Omigosh!” squeaked Charlie.

Dean groaned. “Ouch…”

“You should be more careful around swings,” reprimanded Castiel gravely. “They can be dangerous.”

“Thanks… for the warning,” mumbled Dean as he slowly sat up and rubbed his head.

Sam checked him over with concern. “I don’t think you’re badly hurt,” he decided. “But maybe you should just sit quietly for a bit.”

“Nah, it’s fine,” said Dean, shrugging off Charlie’s attempts to help him stand up. After a false start, he managed it.

“Why don’t you just sit there to the side for a few minutes anyway,” suggested Charlie sensibly. “Sam can push me and that guy on the swing.”

“I’m Castiel, nice to meet you,” said Castiel as he carefully got into the swing.

“Charlie, likewise,” replied Charlie. Sam thought she was looking a bit mystified by Castiel’s general strangeness. “Nice, um… fashion statement with the shoes.”

“These aren’t mine,” Castiel told her and Sam began to start swinging them. “For some reason, while we were inside the caravan, all of the shoes that we had been keeping underneath the caravan were taken and instead multitudes of crocs had been left around.”

Everyone cracked up at that, partly because of the story but also because the calm, slightly befuddled way in which Castiel told it.

“What do you think happened?” asked Dean and although Sam hadn’t told him, it was obvious he knew the truth.

“I have no idea,” said Castiel. “My brother was extremely annoyed about it and is currently running around barefoot trying to find our shoes.”

“Why can’t he just wear some crocs as he tries to find them?” suggested Charlie.

“Apparently he would ‘rather die than wear those sinful things.’ Although, there is nothing in the bible to suggest that crocs are in fact tools of the devil so I don’t think he meant sinful literally.”

Sam couldn’t help laughing even harder at the sincere expression on Castiel’s face, until suddenly they were interrupted.

“OI! SAM!”

He turned to see Gabriel (barefoot as Castiel had said) glaring at him from outside the playpark.

“What?” he asked innocently.

“Give our shoes back!” Gabriel demanded, radiating fury.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Sam replied. “I saw some crocs by your caravan though, maybe those are yours?”

“Very funny,” scowled Gabriel. “Now how about you tell me where they are?”

“How about you make me?” challenged Sam.

“Fine,” huffed Gabriel and opened the gate. He took one step in and then quickly jumped out again. “Ouch!”

“What’s the matter, Gabriel?” asked with concern. He had been watching the exchange with detached interest as Dean and Charlie stifled their giggles.

Gabriel muttered something that may have been about the spikiness of woodchips in the playpark and Sam smirked.

“Why don’t you try reception?” he suggested, deciding that the revenge prank had done enough. “They have a lost and found there.”

Gabriel just shot him a death glare before turning and heading towards the reception building.

“I’m guessing it was you who did the croc thing then?” asked Charlie once he was gone.

“Yeah,” confirmed Sam. “But it was for good reason!”

Then, together with unhelpful input from Castiel and Dean, he explained the unwilling prank war he had been dragged into, though like all good chats between friends it was filled with playful banter and random tangents. Once they finally finished the story, they sat there in contented silence for a while more and as Sam looked up at the dusky sky, sprinkled with a few dim stars, the last thing on his mind was the possibility of Gabriel getting him back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Took longer than I expected :/  
> Hope you enjoyed, you know the comments/kudos drill, thanks!


	6. The Worst Towel Ever

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel pulls what is possibly the riskiest prank yet

“Stupid punk kid, stupid spikey ground, stupid crocs…” muttered Gabriel to himself as he walked across the soft damp grass to the reception/shop at the entrance to the caravan park. “I’ll freaking get him for this,” he decided, and practically slammed open the door.

Becky, the teenaged girl who worked the counter didn’t even look up. Gabriel stormed up to the counter and was on the verge of pounding his hands down on it but just about managed to contain himself. She hadn’t done anything to upset him so it wouldn’t be fair to take out his frustration on her. Plus, if he caused trouble the manager of the site might want to see Dad, which would be difficult for obvious reasons.

“Excuse me,” he said politely after standing there in silence for a minute. A clock ticked loudly on the wall. The ice cream freezer hummed. Becky continued to stare dully at the computer.

“Um… hi?” Gabriel tried again. “I’m looking for lost and found?”

With a sigh, Becky finally looked at him. “It’s in the back, what specifically have you lost?”

“Shoes,” he replied, scowling a little. “Possibly bought in by this giant kid?”

“Oh! I know what you mean!” exclaimed Becky, her eyes lighting up. “That Sam is gorgeous… I’ll just go get them now.”

She got up from the desk and bustled into the back room, leaving Gabriel stood alone in the small shop. He immediately drifted over to the sweets and gave them a once over, but there was nothing special so his attention quickly moved to the numerous tacky souvenirs. Egg cups shaped like VW campervans, placemats with names of Cornish villages on, the kind of stuff you will get anywhere in the South West really.

Suddenly, he noticed something else and a revenge plan fell into place. Hanging up on a rack alongside the usual beach themed towels, there was possibly the worst towel in existence, and therefore, for Gabriel’s purpose at least, the best. It was quite small and neon green with a huge green moose head in the centre. Why anyone would have designed such a monstrosity, he hadn’t the faintest idea, but he was glad they had because it gave him the perfect prank.

“Here, are these yours?” asked Becky, appearing suddenly next to him holding out the lost shoes.

“Yes, thanks,” replied Gabriel, quickly putting his on. He nodded towards the moose towel. “How much?”

Becky scrunched up her nose. “I reckon you can have it for free,” she said finally. “It’s been here for ages, I can’t believe anyone would ever actually want that thing.”

“Thanks!” Gabriel grinned as he took it off the rack and carefully folded it up. “Bye now!” he called as he practically sprinted out, clutching the ugly towel and Castiel’s shoes to his chest. He could only pray he wasn’t too late.

 

Once he was actually in the bathroom block, the plan didn’t seem as good as it had earlier, Gabriel realised. He’d put Castiel’s shoes back in the caravan and then spent the next half an hour completely non creepily watching the Winchester brothers through the window, waiting until they looked like they would be heading to the showers soon. Once it looked like the time was close, he had slipped down to the shower block before them and locked all but two of the shower cubicles from the inside, after checking that his plan would actually work. It relied on two main things: that there were gaps at the bottom of the partitions and that there were opaque curtains between where you left your clothes and the actual shower.

Thankfully, the stalls were perfect, and Gabriel was just the right person for the job.  Being small had its advantages occasionally, and one of those advantages was being able to easily crawl under the partitions.

After he’d done that, Gabriel had locked himself into a cubicle, next to the only open one, and began to wait.

It hadn’t taken long. He soon heard the bickering of Sam and Dean as they entered and began arguing over who got to use to only available shower first. As expected, Dean pulled the older brother card and went in first, which while meant that Gabriel would have less chance of being discovered when carrying out the mission, also meant that he had to sit tight for about 10 minutes as Dean seemed determined to spend as long as possible in there.

Eventually, he emerged. “Your go,” Gabriel heard Dean tell Sam.

“Finally…” Sam sighed as he shut the door. Gabriel heard the click of the lock being turned and checked one last time that everything was in place. He didn’t know how long he had to do this without being caught, and oh boy did he want to avoid being caught. Most of his pranks caused trouble, but this would be a whole new level.

The rustle of the plastic curtain, squeak of a tap and the hiss of water told him Sam had got into the shower. Gabriel waited until the water was loud enough to mask any noise he might make, and then got down onto his stomach. First he reached out just an arm into Sam’s cubicle, grabbed his socks and shoes and pulled them back. If things had been going well for him, then the rest of Sam’s clothes would be on the floor, but unfortunately it appeared Sam was the kind of neat person who would hang up his clothes on the pegs, probably just to annoy Gabriel.

It was too late to back out now though, so ever so slowly, Gabriel inched his way under the partition and into Sam’s cubicle, desperately trying not to think how potentially creepy he was being.  Every time he heard Sam shift slightly in the shower he felt a surge of panic, but amazingly he managed to get all the way through.

Even though his heart was pounding, Gabriel placed the moose towel on the hook, gathered up Sam’s belongings as quickly as possible and pushed them under the side. He had just lowered himself to the floor to scoot back under himself when the tap squeaked and the water stopped.

Filled with panic, he kicked out wildly to try and push himself under quick enough, but instead just caused a load crash!

“Who’s that?” said Sam as he tried to push aside the curtain and Gabriel frantically wriggled under the cubicle. Thankfully, the rubbish plastic curtains never actually move the way you want them to, so in the few seconds it took Sam to shove it out the way, Gabriel managed to crawl to freedom and didn’t even wait to hear Sam’s reaction before grabbing the stolen goods and legging it out of there.

 

Gabriel didn’t stop sprinting until he had slammed the caravan door behind him and then he collapsed onto the sofa, laughing with the exhilaration. After a few moments it died away however, as he began to realise what he’d done. There was no way Sam wouldn’t realise it was him, but there was no way of knowing if he would take it as a prank or get angry. Technically it had been theft surely? Never mind that Sam had stolen the shoes first, Gabriel was pretty sure that argument wouldn’t hold up if there was trouble over this.

“Dammit…” he said to himself as he stared at Sam’s belongings. Maybe he should go and drop them in lost property?

Suddenly, there was a banging on the door. “Gabriel! I know it was you!” called Sam. “Give my stuff back!”

Terror coursed through Gabriel’s entire body like liquid nitrogen. Sam sounded pretty mad and Gabriel did not want to get into a fight with a guy as stupidly tall as that.

“Gabriel? I’m going to open the door if you don’t!”

“That’s breaking and entering!”

“That didn’t stop you!”

Gabriel had to admit Sam had a point, so he braced himself, opened the door and put on his most charming smile. Which then froze on his face.

“I want my clothes back,” demanded Sam, arm crossed and glaring. Gabriel made what might have been a choking noise. “What?”

Personally, Gabriel thought Sam was being a bit thick here. What part of a six foot four giant with sopping wet long hair wearing only the world’s ugliest towel around their waist isn’t at least a little bit weird?

“Uh…” he managed and then tried to slam the door. He would have succeeded if Sam hadn’t stuck his hand out and caught it.

“Gabriel I swear to God if you do not give me my clothes back right now I will kill you.”

Gabriel swore mentally. He looked like he meant it. “Ok one sec!” he squeaked and grabbed the clothes off the chair where he had left them. “Here you go okay bye!”

“Finally, I was starting to get cold,” muttered Sam as he took the clothes but he didn’t leave. Instead, he just started getting dressed. “If you’re worried about a revenge prank, don’t be,” he added.

“Oh good,” replied Gabriel faintly, very pointedly looking anywhere but Sam.

“Yeah, I’ll just tell your dad instead,” continued Sam casually and when Gabriel spun around to protest he saw a wicked smile.

“What? No! You can’t!” exclaimed Gabriel desperately. “Please!”

Sam looked taken aback. “Woah man, calm down!” he said, raising his hands. “I was only kidding, I wouldn’t sell you out.”

Gabriel just scowled as he attempted to regain his composure. He should have known the prank war would bring trouble, and not the fun kind.

“You look kinda shaken up, are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” snapped Gabriel.

“I guess that counts as my revenge prank then,” Sam said with a smile that was a little too forced. “I don’t think anything I could cook up on purpose could scare you like that! How about we call a truce?”

Gabriel considered. A truce would mean no more trouble and fewer chances for someone to attempt to get Dad involved. But it would also mean he was losing the prank war, since Sam seemed to think he had gotten one up on him…

“Sure,” he said with an easy shrug and headed towards the snack cupboard. “Do you want some sweets?” he asked. “Pranks burn a lot of sugar.”

“Thanks,” said Sam, sitting down on the sofa. “I’m guessing you have a lot of experience with them?”

“I’m a veteran,” agreed Gabriel, grabbing  a mega pack of haribo and flopping onto the sofa next to Sam. “There was this one time in middle school when…”

And that was how Sam and Gabriel accidentally caused panic for the adult Winchesters who had no idea why their son had left for a quick shower over an hour ago and hadn’t been seen since.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea what's going on with this anymore :/ oh well it's fun so I'll carry on  
> Comments much appreciated! :)


	7. Stars

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK I know nothing about stars I'm not even sure they have the same stars in America so just go with it okay thanks

Castiel's eyes snapped open, and it was dark. Something was different in the caravan, different to how it had been when he'd drifted off to sleep.

Gabriel. Gabriel was what was different. And while Castiel obviously hadn't expected him to still be sat hunched over a drawing, sat at the table, he had been under the impression that his big brother/temporary guardian would be around during the night. But the air was still, none of the usual soft snores and shifting that usually indicated his presence.

Alarm gripped Castiel's heart tight. Cautiously, he slithered out of the bunk bed, landing quietly on the cold lino floor.

"Gabriel?" he hissed. There was no reply. "Gabriel?" he tried again, this time knocking softly on the toilet door. As expected, there was no reply, but the sound echoed in the empty gloom and he began to feel spooked. "Gabriel..." he moaned, feeling very much like when he was little kid, woken in the night, stumbling blind around an unfamiliar motel room, searching for Dad.

He'd have to wait up for Gabriel to return, he decided. That way he could tell him off for being out so late, and Gabriel would roll his eyes and give a perfectly reasonable explanation and it would all be fine again.

If Gabriel returned.

Of course he will.

But... surely it had already been quite a while?

It suddenly dawned on Castiel that he was still stood in the dark for no reason. He tried to remember where the light switch was. By the window, he thought.

Padding on light feet over to where he was pretty sure the window was, Castiel reached out a hand. He jumped a little when it brushed the curtain, and then pulled himself together and pushed it out the way.

Outside, a figure was crossing the grass, heading up towards him. There were more stars than Castiel was used to seeing at night, with no neon signs or streetlights to block them out, but even they didn't give enough light to identify who it was.

He backed away slowly, and tried to locate the door. After a few false attempts he managed to open it and stood on the threshold, shivering a little in a cool night air after the stuffy caravan. Squinting, he tried to make out who the figure was. It had to be Gabriel, surely? Nobody else would be out at this time of night, whatever time it was anyway.

Without warning, Castiel felt a twist of fear in his gut. It may have been a rustle in the hedge, or a breath of wind, or just his own imagination that set him off but it didn’t matter because now he was spooked and the only thing he wanted was to be in his brother’s warm arms so without a second thought he tore across the dew damp grass and barrelled into the Gabriel, arms wide.

“Oof!” said the person as the air was knocked from them.

Castiel’s blood ran cold. The person he was clutching was not Gabriel. Too tall, just for starters. Afraid of what he’d see, he slowly raised his gaze to meet the bewildered face of none other than Dean Winchester.

“Cas?” asked Dean, voice full of concern. “Is everything okay?”

Only then did the full mortification of what he’d done wash over Castiel like a wave of lava. He flung his arms apart and stepped backwards so fast he actually fell backwards and ended up on the ground, certain Dean would be able to feel the heat of his face even from that far. “I, uh, I, I’m really sorry!” he managed to stutter out. “Please don’t be mad!”

Dean’s expressions where difficult to make out in the gloom, but Castiel was pretty sure Dean was frowning at him. Still sat on the ground where he’d fallen, Castiel studied the muddy grass intensely and wished he could just teleport away whenever he found himself in awkward situations like this, which was irritatingly often, now that he actually thought about it.

An unexpected sound made him look up. It took in a moment to realise Dean was trying not to laugh, but after the first snort escaped, he was soon laughing so hard it became the painful, silent, scrunched faced mirth Castiel had often observed on those around him, but never properly experienced. He suppose Dean was laughing at him, so he sullenly went back to glaring at the grass like it had personally insulted him and vehemently wishing he was elsewhere.

Eventually, Dean managed to regain enough control to say, in between wheezy breaths, “Are you going to sit there all night?”

Castiel looked up to see a shadowy hand outstretched towards him and suddenly became very self-conscious of the unreasonably long length of time he had actually spent on the ground. Taking Dean’s hand, he hauled himself up and as soon as he was standing, dropped it very quickly. Now unsure what he should do, he began brushing bits of dirt off his pyjamas, probably with much more concentration that was strictly necessary.

“Don’t worry, they’re fine,” Dean assured him, noticing the nervous movement. Castiel noticed that Dean was not wearing proper pyjamas, just some old sweatpants and a well-worn t-shirt. He scowled slightly. Sweatpants and t-shirts were for daytime. Pyjamas were for night-time. It really wasn’t difficult.

“So, uh, what was with the enthusiastic greeting?” asked Dean, and even in the faint light Castiel could see the shape of the grin he’d memorized already. Wait a second. When had he memorized Dean’s grin? Had it been earlier, at the playpark? Or while they ate dinner together at the pub? Or when he handed over the perfect seashell? Or, and Castiel felt in his heart this was perhaps the truest answer, when he had first accidentally bumped into him while kicking a stone?

The realisation electrified his mind. He couldn’t… like Dean, surely? Well obviously he platonically liked him, but did he rom… (Castiel couldn’t bring himself to think it) …um, ‘like’ like him?

It was only when Dean nudged him that Castiel noticed with a wild eyed start that he hadn’t replied. His thoughts were buzzing so loud it was a miracle he managed to mumble something about looking for Gabriel.

“He’s gone?” asked Dean.

Castiel nodded, then remembered it might not be visible in the night and added, “Yes. I don’t know where he is.”

“Do you want me to help look?” offered Dean. “I was just going to the bathroom, but my family are asleep so they won’t notice if I take a little while to come back.”

“Thank you,” replied Castiel gratefully. “I suppose we should just walk around a little and see if we can find him.”

“Sure,” Dean said with an easy shrug. “I’m pretty sure he’s not in the bathroom block, maybe the park?”

Castiel couldn’t think of a single reason Gabriel would be in the park in the middle of the night, but it was as good a place as any to start, so they set off on the short walk down to it.

 

At night the playpark was creepy. The climbing frame cast shadows like a cage, or a spider web. The swings creaked ominously. The stumps of the obstacle course looked like bones jutting out of the ground. Castiel shivered. “He’s not here,” he whispered.

“Gabriel?” said Dean in his normal voice still. Then he raised a hand to his mouth to amplify the sound. “Gabriel?”

“Shh…” hushed Castiel, tugging down Dean’s arm. “We should search elsewhere.”

“Okay,” agreed Dean. “Shall we check the next field over?”

Internally, Castiel shuddered. This field had a little illumination from the bathroom block and a few caravans with the outside lights on, but it would probably be even darker over there. But it was that or return to the silent, dark caravan alone. “Okay,” he managed his voice almost free of any tremble.

If Dean noticed how close to him Castiel was walking as they made their careful way to the other field, he gave no sign. Castiel wasn’t sure if it was better or worse that way. He kept swivelling his head around as they walked, desperate to catch a glimpse of anything leading to his brother.

In fact, he was so concentrated on looking for Gabriel that he hardly heard Dean’s low warning of, “Careful!” and suddenly he took a step, the ground was no longer as there as he expected and somehow he was on the  slanted ground yet again.

“Are you okay?” asked Dean, standing over him. “I tried to warn you, there’s an unexpected hill there.”

“Fine,” grunted Castiel, irritated at finding himself at Dean’s feet for the second time that night. Or was it technically morning yet? He wasn’t really sure. “I’m just admiring the stars.”

Dean turned his gaze upwards to the innumerable jewels shining down on them. “Awesome,” he said and nonchalantly dropped to a sitting position next to him. Castiel only realised how intently he was watching when Dean caught his eyes and he had to jerk his head away.

 “Look there’s the… kite thing,” Dean said, pointing upwards.

“That’s Orion,” Castiel replied with a scowl. It really wasn’t a hard constellation to remember.

“You know star pictures?” Castiel felt a flicker of warmth in his chest at the amazement in Dean’s voice.

“Constellations,” he corrected. “And yes, my father taught us them. We needed something to look at when we were driving at night.”

“Awesome,” repeated Dean, drawing his knees up to his chest. “So, what’s that one?”

After a moment’s glace, Castiel replied, “Cancer.”

“And that?”

“The Plough.”

“And that?”

“That’s a plane.”

Dean laughed awkwardly. “Oh yeah, right. I live in Exeter so I don’t see the stars much most of the time. City lights and all.”

Castiel nodded, though he wasn’t sure it could be seen in the darkness. “I’ve been in big cities like that.”

“Exeter isn’t that big, but I live near the centre so there are loads of streetlights nearby,” Dean explained. “Hey, are the stars the same in America?”

Castiel fought the urge to roll his eyes. “Yes, of course they are. But here, tonight, they seem a lot… brighter than usual. I think it’s because Cornwall is rubbish and has no lights.”

Chuckling, Dean shook his head and lowered himself backwards so he was lying down, still looking up at the sky. Castiel sneaked a sideways glance and noticed even in the darkness, his freckles were a smattering of stars across his face, only visible by the real starlight. “You don’t like it here?”

I like this here, this small place and time, thought Castiel, but out loud he said, in a voice tinged with bitterness, “No, I don’t. Dad forces me and Gabriel to come all the way across the Atlantic for ‘family bonding’ or something and then when we get here he goes off with all his old friends and it’s not fair!”

Dean sat up. “Your dad’s gone off without you?” he asked.

Too late, Castiel realised his mistake. “N-not exactly…” he managed. “I mean, um, he, um…”

“That’s why we haven’t seen him all this time,” said Dean. It wasn’t a question.

Castiel nodded miserably. “You can’t tell anyone. Gabriel takes good care of me. Dad looks after us well most of the time, I swear!”

Sucking in a sharp breath, Dean made an awkward lunge that began as an attempt at a hug and halfway transformed to a tentative pat on the shoulder. “I won’t tell,” he promised.

“Really?”

“Yeah, of course. You’re my friend, right?”

Castiel looked away for a second, then made up his mind and turned back to Dean with a grin. “I suppose so.”

“Awesome,” said Dean for the umpteenth time, but for some reason it didn’t grate on Castiel as normal. Then, he grabbed Castiel’s arm and threw himself back into lying position, Castiel falling with him. “Now, c’mon Cas. Teach me some more stars!”

All thoughts of looking for Gabriel, or even what his father would say at lying on the grass at night, melted from Castiel’s mind as he ran through the constellations and their stories that  he knew so well, every revelation greeting by an exclamation of ‘awesome,’ ‘he sounds like a lad,’ and occasionally ‘banter!’ by an eagerly listening Dean. Occasionally, Dean or Castiel would shiver slightly, but the other always shifted a bit closer to share their warmth. They only stopped when the sky turned too light for the stars to be seen, by then wrapped in each other’s arms, but even then they continued talking, about school, family, movies, anything, until the vivid flames of sunrise curled across the sky and they both slipped back to their caravans. Castiel didn’t even think to check if Gabriel had returned as he slid into his bunk and immediately fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh gosh I feel so bad it took me forever to update this :( I've been super busy with 6th form stuff and also I'm writing a thing for my project so any writing time I have has to go on that normally. I will keep going with this though because I'm enjoying it hope you guys are too!  
> Comments and kudos give me motivation to continue! :P


	8. Just a game

Hunched over the table in the cramped caravan, Gabe scribbled away at his masterpiece. “Yes, yes, and yes!” he muttered as his pencil flew across the paper. With a final flourish, he held up his hands and observed what he had created. “It’s perfect!” he cried.

“Gabriel…” groaned Castiel from his bunk. “It’s really late. Dad said not to stay up this late… can’t you be quiet and go to sleep?”  
“Shh,” scolded Gabriel, turning his head this way and that to admire his work. “You can’t silence art.”

“It’s not art it’s a nuisance.”

Gabriel gasped in mock offence. “How could you say such a thing? I’m a genius unappreciated in my time, I’ll have you know. Just look at this!”

With a sigh, Castiel hauled himself out of his bunk and slipped down onto the floor. He rubbed his bleary eyes with one hand and then stared at what Gabriel was sure was the finest artwork his little brother was ever likely to see.

“What the heck is that?” asked Castiel.

“What is it? Can’t you tell?”

“No, not at all.”

Gabriel shot a sideways glance at his brother. There was no way he couldn’t tell what it was, it was all perfect; the legs, the antlers, the weirdly shaped head, the long hair, everything. “Obviously it’s a lovely lady moose, duh,” he replied. “Maybe you need to get your eyes checked.”

For anyone who didn’t know Castiel, they might assume his deadpan expression was one of disdain, but Gabriel was fairly certain that really it was just a look of amazement at the beauty of true art, or something. It had to be, because he refused to consider the possibility that his drawing didn’t look he had expected. And sure, there were a few small differences to the image in his head, but it was hardly noticeable, right?

“Would you like me to draw it?” offered Castiel after a long moment. “If it would shut you up so I can sleep I wouldn’t mind.”

Gabriel considered. Okay, so technically Castiel’s drawing might be more recognisable that a brown blob with some lines sticking out of it, but it wouldn’t have the same heart. Or something, he didn’t actually know any art terms. “Fine,” he eventually agreed. “But just draw it small on this corner so I can copy it big.”

“Why do you even need a big drawing of a moose?” asked Castiel in his usual exasperated tones. “No, wait, let me guess, it’s another stupid prank, isn’t it?”

“No!” replied Gabriel too quickly. “I totally promised I wouldn’t prank anyone this holiday, remember?”

Castiel ignored that and continued with his sketching. After a minute of the pencil quirking across the paper, he wordlessly pushed it across the table. “There.”  
“Hmm, not bad…” admitted Gabriel as he stared in envy at the perfectly formed cartoon lady moose Castiel had somehow created with just a few gentle lines.

“If you draw that, will you do it quietly at least?” Castiel asked as he clambered up into his bunk. “I’d quite like to get some sleep tonight.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Gabriel only had half a mind on his reply as he began meticulously copying out Castiel’s sketch.

 He only looked up when it was as finished as he thought he could get it, realising with a mild surprise that it was now dark outside and Castiel was softly snoring in his bunk. It was probably for the best anyway, he didn’t need another lecture on the dangers of pranks. Honestly, all Cassie had to do was read one stupid work experience advice booklet that said some nonsense like ‘never play practical jokes, they can kill!’ and he couldn’t even put plastic spiders around the house without having to listen to hours of complaints and lists of every person ever slightly killed somehow by a harmless prank.

With such a threat hanging over him, Gabriel was careful to keep extra quiet as he grabbed his emergency blue tack and slipped out into the night, gently closing the door behind him. Again, he was thankful for the lack of fellow caravanners in the park, but this time because it made it a lot easier to identify the Winchester’s caravan and to dash his way over to it undetected.

Once stood in front of the caravan, he paused. Where would be the best place to stick up his masterpiece? Sam’s window would probably be best, but finding out which one that was might be a challenge. He couldn’t go and just peer into all of them, for a start some were covered by curtains, plus if anyone awoke it would be a sure fire way to get in serious trouble. Circling it, hoping to get a clue seemed to be the only option at the moment, so Gabriel began, treading lightly to avoid unnecessary noise.

It was all going well until he was passing next to the hedge at the back and something grabbed his legs. He toppled over with a loud “Oof!” and kicked out wildly. A second later he realised it was just a stray bramble, there was no attacker, but he was still in danger of being caught.

Immediately, he clamped his mouth shut and froze, listening for any sign of movement inside the caravan. The seconds stretched into years as he lay, not even daring to shiver, on the dampish long grass. A spider crawled on his arm and it took all of his willpower not to flick it off.

As the spider got bored of exploring the wonders of his elbow and was just setting out on an expedition into his t-shirt sleeve, Gabriel decided he’d waited long enough. He jumped lightly to his feet, feeling momentarily bad for the spider that was dislodged and plummeted to the earth, and then crept around the corner to the long edge of the caravan.

Then the door swung open and his heart stopped.

 “What are you doing here?” Sam hissed, glaring out at him. His elevation on the caravan in addition to his natural giant powers he made Gabriel feel even shorter than usual. “There had better be a really good explanation for this.”

“Uhh…” Gabriel swore internally. There wasn’t really a good explanation for it, or any explanation at all for that matter. “It’s, umm, not what it looks like?”

Sam ran a hand through his bed tangled long hair, sighed, then stepped down onto the ground and quietly shut the door. “What is it then?”

“I wanted to see you,” blurted out Gabriel, then realised what he’d said, and then realised it was true.

Sam seemed to jolt slightly, though it was hard to tell in the dark. “Oh?” he managed in a small voice.

“AAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” said Gabriel’s internal monologue.

“Yeah,” confirmed Gabriel externally. He suddenly realised how to play it and still keep some of his pride intact. Smirking, he stepped towards Sam a little, and though he wasn’t sure if the smirk was visible, he felt his usual confidence surge through him. This was just like winding up people at school. If he believed that, it didn’t matter what he said, right?

“Um… why?” asked Sam, shifting on the spot a little from the sudden closeness. “Not that I’m complaining, uh, that much.”

“Wanted to give you this,” replied Gabriel, fishing into his pocket and pulling out the by now slightly crumpled moose drawing. He proudly held it out until Sam took it from his hands and squinted at it.

“A, um, a kids drawing?” he asked, looking back at Gabriel, smiling in bemusement.

Gabriel made himself laugh quietly. “No, it’s a lady moose friend I drew for you!” Now he thought about it, maybe this wasn’t the best prank he’d ever done, but there was nothing to do now but forge ahead. It was just a game after all, seeing how long he could wear his over confident manner.

Seemingly involuntarily, Sam gave short laugh of surprise. “I see now,” he said. “That, um, a really cute drawing there, thanks.”

“Not as cute you, Samquatch” quipped Gabriel, almost automatically.

 Just like all the others he’d tried it on, Sam laughed softly and turned his head away slightly, looking down with a silly grin on his face. “You’re awful,” he managed.

Gabriel just smirked. He got that response a lot as well.

“So, uh, did you really come here in the middle of the night just to give me that?” asked Sam.

“No, of course not,” replied Gabriel easily. He hadn’t really planned it, but the words seemed to flow from his mouth without actually consulting his brain. “I also came to give you this.” He gestured for Sam to lean in close, and when he did, went up onto tiptoes kissed him gently on the cheek.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHH WHY DID I DO THAT???” screamed his internal monologue, even more distressed than usual.

Out loud, Gabriel said nothing, just rocked back onto his feet and stood there smirking. It’s just a game, he kept reminding himself, ignoring the fact that he’d never taken a game this far before.

Gabriel had no idea what Sam’s internal monologue was but if it was anything like what he was saying it was a sort of strangled choking noise possibly attempting to be words. Eventually Sam managed an, “Okay…” and then seemed at a loss for further words. This seemed like a cue to leave, before he did something that couldn’t be excused with ‘it’s just a game.’

“Well, see ya.” Gabriel shrugged and turned to start walking back towards the caravan. He wasn’t sure, but he was thought he might have heard Sam whisper something like, “Bye,” but he didn’t stay to check.

Halfway back, he risked turning around and saw, in the dim moonlight, Sam was still stood where he’d been left, smiling down at the ridiculous drawing. When Sam noticed he’d been seen, he quickly darted back inside, but Gabriel could help but feel a warm twist inside him.

 

Once back inside the caravan, Gabriel flopped into his bed, hugged himself, and grinned like he’d just been given the biggest lollipop ever. He was vaguely aware that Cassie was no longer around, but assumed he’d be back soon and pushed the thought from his mind. The idea that he’d possibly messed his weird friendship with Sam up barely occurred to him. After all, it didn’t mean anything; it was just a game… right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> screm so long since I updated sorry :/ still unsure how this is a thing   
> Comments and kudos much appreciated! :)


	9. TO THE ROLLERCOASTER

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They go to a local amusement park. There are rollercoasters and goats.

When Sam woke up, he was smiling. This was rather unusual for him, normally he resented being dragged into consciousness by whatever it was this time, so it took him a moment or two to realise where the happiness was coming from. Then he remembered Gabriel appearing on his doorstep and pressing the awful drawing into his hand the feel of his soft lips against his cheek and warmth rushed over him again and it was all he could do to stop himself curling into a ball and grinning like some year eight girl with a crush.

Oh god, is that what this was?

It only took about five more seconds of consideration to decide that yes, yes it was. Past experience had taught him that it was a lot easier just to accept it when he started feeling stuff like that, life wasn’t a fic so he tried to avoid unnecessary drama when possible. He’d tell Gabriel later and see what happened.

Sometimes Sam wished he wasn’t so logical about this stuff. Most (all) of the people he’d liked so far had said the way he did it took all the romance out of it, but since he wouldn’t be with Gabriel for very long anyway it was the only thing he could think of. The only real decision was when and how to tell him, something he considered for quite a while until he was finally forced to get up by his parents.

Unsurprisingly, Dean was just as reluctant to get out of bed, even with the promise of a cup of tea and toast. What was surprising were the dark rings around his eyes, the traces of dirt on his sweatpants and the weird smiles he kept making when he thought Sam couldn’t see. What the heck had he been doing?

Whatever. Sam shrugged to himself. He had more important things on his mind. If he was going to tell Gabriel how he felt, he couldn’t just do it in some normal, boring way. No way would the stupid American kid react to anything less over the top as himself. It had to be the exact right mix of stupid, ridiculous, childish and improbable, just like everything he did.

He cast his mind around, searching for ideas, but came up blank. Until he noticed the pile of garishly bright leaflets piled up on the table, each one advertising ‘THE SOUTH WEST’S BIGGEST/TALLEST/OLDEST/SMALLEST *tourist attraction*!!!’

Shifting through them, he found one he recognized from his childhood at the bottom, proudly displaying pictures of ‘all new rides!’ (Sam was certain it was the exact same old rollercoaster he remembered from when he was little, but painted a different colour) and laughing children. Perfect. He looked up. “Mum?” he asked. “Could we go with the Novak’s to Creally today?”

 

An hour later they were there. It had taken some work, while Dean, and later Gabriel, had been all for it, Sam’s parents had failed to understand the attraction of revisiting a childhood legend, aka the local amusement park/petting zoo, Castiel had been half asleep and difficult to wake, and then there was the worrying conversation Sam had half overheard as Gabriel had pulled Castiel off to ‘ask Dad if we can borrow the car’…

But all of it was forgotten as the four boys stood in the entrance. Delighted screams of children filled the air, the rides rattled past and animals bleated.

“It’s a bit… smaller than I remembered…” said Sam, realizing belatedly that his memory and the leaflet may have ‘slightly’ embellished his memories. In his mind, there were towering playgrounds, rollercoasters that reached the sky, an entire natural history museum.

In reality there were a couple of play areas for little kids, one old and tired rollercoaster, a swing boat, a merry go round, and some goats.

Gabriel turned to look at him, eyes gleaming. “Isn’t it great?” he exclaimed, before whipping around to face the others. “See, told ya it’s awesome, Cassie!”

“S’alright…” shrugged Castiel, before casting a shy glance at Dean, who was surveying it all with a fond smile.

Suddenly, Castiel caught sight of something on a nearby game stall and walked straight towards it, ignoring everything else.

“Hey, where are you going?” called Dean and jogged to catch up. Gabriel and Sam exchanged confused looks then followed.

 

“I’d like that one please,” they heard Castiel ask the man at the stall, pointing to a large fluffy bee toy.

Laughing, the man shook his head. “You have to win it first, sorry,” he explained, gesturing at the tin cans stacked up behind him. “And that one’s the special prize. You gotta knock down all of them with one ball to get it.”

“Oh…” muttered Castiel and began to turn away, almost bumping into Dean who’d appeared at his shoulder.

Holding out some coins, Dean said confidently to the man, “One ball please. Watch this guys!”

“Do you reckon he’ll do it?” asked Gabriel, smirking upwards at Sam, who merely shrugged. He hoped Dean would.

Dean took the ball carefully in his hand and squeezed it a few times. Then he began to pace back and forth, eyeing up the cans. Stood to one side, Castiel watched with such wonder in his eyes that Sam could hardly contain a laugh. After carefully considering his position several times, Dean prepared to take the shot. It was perfect, the right amount of force, the right angle… everything.

Except for Gabriel shouting “MISS!” at the top of his extremely loud voice and causing Dean to flinch slightly just as he was letting go. The ball sailed harmlessly over the top of the tins and landed somewhere in the back of the stall.

 Shooting an angry glare at Gabriel, Dean dug into his pocket and pulled out some more money, which he dumped on the counter without another word. With the new ball he began the same routine of meticulously planning his shot.

Sam was suddenly aware of Gabriel tensing next to him and instinctively knew he was going to mess it up for Dean again. He laid a warning hand on his shoulder, something that was pretty easy given the height difference. “Don’t,” he warned quietly, but with a smile. He knew Gabriel didn’t mean any real harm.

“Aww…” complained Gabriel, fake pouting for a moment, but then he was grinning as the sound of clattering tin cans filled the air.

“The bee, please,” said Dean casually, handing it to an awestruck Castiel as soon as he received it.

Castiel looked down at his fluffy prize with the biggest smile Sam had ever seen him give, not that he had many to gauge it against really. “Thank you!” he exclaimed and threw his arms around Dean, bumping him slightly with the enormous bee.

Turning red, Dean tried to wave away his response with “It’s nothing… don’t worry about it…” but Sam could tell he was secretly pleased.

With a sigh, Gabriel turned away dramatically. “God knows how I’m going to fit that damn thing in the car… Or the plane home for that matter!” he complained.

“Couldn’t your Dad help…?” Sam trailed off once he remembered the conversation he’d heard.  He’d had suspicions before but now he was certain. The Novak kids were alone, in another country, without an adult.

It must have shown on his face, because suddenly Gabriel’s expression darkened and he dragged Sam to a less busy area, leaving a flustered Dean and Castiel trying to explain to the stall man that they weren’t in fact a couple.

“You know, don’t you,” said Gabriel. It wasn’t really a question, but Sam nodded anyway.

“I’d kinda worked it out…” he said. “We were hanging with you guys loads, but never even saw a trace of an adult. And when I, uh, borrowed those shoes, there were only yours and Castiel’s, nothing that would belong to a parent, so I began to suspect. You guys seemed fine though, so I told myself I was being stupid, until earlier when I kinda… overheard you telling Castiel off.”

 

It had been earlier, after him and Dean had turned up at the Novak caravan with the suggestion they all go to Creally.

After Gabriel had woken Castiel and heavily implied he’d get to spend a lot of time with Dean, potentially alone, while Sam tried not to laugh and Dean had squirmed, Castiel had immediately agreed and got dressed, ready to jump into the car in a moment. Gabriel had reminded him they had to go ask Dad, who was ‘probably down in the shop,’ but Castiel had shook his head insisted they didn’t have to bother.

Then Gabriel had made him follow him outside, where they were apparently going to look for their Dad to ask, but Sam had watched them out the window and instead they just went around the back of the caravan. By hiding in the tiny bathroom with the little plastic window slightly ajar, he’d been able to catch almost every word of Gabriel warning Castiel that they still had to pretend Dad was around, now more than ever.

 

Gabriel groaned and pushed his hand into his face. “Dammit…” Then he removed his hand and looked up at Sam with a dreadful urgency in his eyes. “Look, you can’t say anything to anyone, not even Deano! We’re fine by ourselves, it really doesn’t matter, just don’t let the secret out or Dad will get in trouble with the police or whatever and me and Cassie really will be on our own then.” He stopped talking and stood there, breathing heavily, the fear shining through his eyes.

Sighing, Sam nodded his head. “I understand,” he said.

“Really? Do you really?” snapped Gabriel, fire blazing suddenly. “You swear on your life you wouldn’t breathe a word of it to anyone, even if you think it would help?”

“Of course,” replied Sam helplessly. “I wouldn’t betray you.”  
Gabriel shrugged moodily. “You wouldn’t be the first,” he muttered. “Why should I believe you?”

So, this was it. The perfect moment. Or one he would have to be an idiot to miss at least. Crazy, over the top, like something out of an awful drama or something, it made perfect sense that this would be how he ended up telling Gabriel his feelings. Sam took a deep breath and…

“I suppose you’re going to say it’s because you like me or something,” said Gabriel casually, and when he saw Sam choke and go red a wicked gleam lit up in his eye. “Hang on,” he said, voice suddenly filling with glee. “Are you telling me I was right?” He took Sam’s surprised silence as a yes and laughed, his normal carefree self was somehow back in an instant. “Well, this sure is something.”

“Uh, what do you mean?” Sam asked. Dammit, stupid Gabe, ruining his confession. And then laughing at it? Right, that was it. Sam was going to be jaded for life and there was nothing anyone could do about it.

Gabe went quiet as quickly as his laughter had begun. “Well, because I like you too, Gigantor.”

“Oh,” was all Sam had to say. “Well… good.”

The rest of the talking was done by shyly linking their hands and then being dragged off by Gabe as he shouted, “TO THE ROLLERCOASTER!” Dean and Castiel, still over by the stall, were forgotten.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah I have no excuse for why that's so late but AHA I DID DO IT IN THE END SUKI and to think you doubted me. I hope you appreciate the seikichi (or however you spell it) reference  
> Comments and kudos remind me I still need to finish! :)


	10. GOAT GOAT GOAT

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> there are goats

“Where are Sam and Gabe?” asked Dean suddenly.

Castiel shrugged and took another bite of his candyfloss, (which Dean may or may not have bought for him) fluffy bee toy still held under one arm. “They wandered off some time while we were trying to convince the stall man we’re not going out.”

Blushing slightly at the memory, Dean tried to remember exactly when his brother and his midget boyfriend had disappeared, but his head was still dizzy from the merry go round they’d just hopped off. Castiel had zeroed in on the blue starry horse immediately, leaving Dean with the choice of either the pink flowery one on the right, or the wooden car on the left. He’d chosen the car. Before then they’d visited the candyfloss stall and before then… he could barely remember, he’d been so caught up in being with Cas.

“We can look for them if you want?” suggested Castiel, but rather half-heartedly. You didn’t need to be a genius to tell that he’d prefer to stick with Dean, alone.

The thought excited Dean more than he’d care to admit. “Nah, it’s okay,” he said in an attempt at casual. “I’ll text and tell them to meet us at the front gate when it’s time to go home.” He whipped out his phone and tapped a few button before shoving it away into his pocket. “There, sorted. No need to worry, see?”

“Okay,” said Castiel and took another bite of candyfloss off the white stick. A small piece of pink fluff stuck to his nose.

“Here, one sec,” said Dean and, without thinking, reached out and brushed it off for him. Then he froze, trapped by the closeness of Castiel’s steady gaze and realised how close he was before he hurriedly sprung backwards. “Sorry, you had a little bit of um…”

Castiel’s hand went to touch the spot where the candyfloss had, almost without him noticing. “Thank you,” he said in his curiously monotone voice. “You can have some of this cotton candy if you want.”

The sudden awkwardness evaporated as Dean giggled. “Heh, cotton candy. Such a weird phrase.” Before Castiel could as exactly what was so odd about it, Dean swiped a large chunk and shoved it into his mouth. “Thanks!” he said around the melting sugar.

Castiel rolled his eyes. “You are welcome. You did buy it after all.”

“Exactly, so I can take as much as I want.”

After a second, Castiel held out the entire stick. “Here,” he said. “Take it.”

But Dean shook his head. “No man, it’s yours, don’t worry. Now, where do you wanna go next?”

He was hoping for the rollercoaster or the log flume, something that would give Castiel an excuse to hold onto him, and maybe get the adrenaline going slightly. He’d read somewhere that high places were best for dates because the body’s reaction to the fear, such as increased heart rate, where also signs of attraction, which would make the other person think they liked you more than they did. Uh, not that he would ever have to resort to such cheap tricks or anything.

“The petting zoo,” Castiel decided. He pointed up towards the children’s play barns. “I think it’s near there.”

“Ok, sure,” agreed Dean, slightly deflating inside. He hoped they had some really scary animals up there.

 

Short answer, they didn’t, aside from a few gross looking cockroaches in the insect corner. But what it was lacking in terrifying, the petting zoo made up for in cute. It had been years since Dean had last been in there, and even then it had only been a quick look around, he lived in the middle of Devon, he knew what cows and pigs and horses looked like (he’d even had a pony in his garden for a few months) so it wasn’t the most interesting of places for a hyperactive five year old, but since then they’d seriously upgraded their animals.

“Woah, dude, are those MONKEYS?” he exclaimed when they entered the enormous barn that housed all of the animals.

Castiel came and stood quietly behind him. “Yes,” he said. “They’re marmosets.”

They watched the leafy cage full of scampering tiny monkeys for a while, before something else caught Dean’s eye.

“Check out those chicks, Cas!”

A group of teenaged girls standing nearby turned to glare at him, but their expressions melted when they saw the source of the shout was a tall boy cooing over the newly hatched chicks, another boy in a trench coat stood protectively next to him. A couple of them surreptitiously took pictures for their blogs. It was too aesthetic to miss.

After that there were the cute bunnies and guinea pigs, then the tiny pony and then the tiny piglets. Dean was half aware he was probably being weird but he was enjoying himself too much, jumping from pen to pen, awing over the cutest animals, Castiel in trail, reserved as always, but smiling warmly, at least by his standards anyway.

It was when Dean was fussing over the kids (baby goats for people who couldn’t read the information signs on the pens) that he suddenly looked at Castiel and accidentally met his eyes. He jumped. “What… what are you doing?” he managed to ask.

“Watching you.” A simple reply.

“Oh…” Dean didn’t really know what else to say.

Castiel smiled. “You love all the animals so much,” he said. “It’s beautiful.”

Dean could feel his face heating up. “I uh… thanks?”

Silently, Castiel reached out and took his hand into his. They looked at each other and even though neither of them said anything, they could feel something had changed.

Swallowing, Dean leaned forwards slightly, before pulling back again. He didn’t want to mess anything as fragile as this up. But then Castiel did that expression of his, the one with the lips slightly parted and the head tilted a little and the eyes just ridiculously blue and Dean decided it was at least worth a shot and leaned in a again, closed the already tiny gap between them and planted his lips on Castiel’s. After a second, he pulled away for a second time. Castiel hadn’t moved.

“I’m sorry,” Dean said immediately, dropping Castiel’s hand.

Slowly, Castiel wiped his mouth with a tissue. “No, it’s okay,” he said. “I’ve never done that before.”

“It was… bad?” asked Dean, wishing he could disappear very soon.

Castiel shrugged. “Not really my thing,” he explained and Dean nodded. “I prefer this.” He grabbed Dean’s hand again and smiled.

“Me too,” agreed Dean, grinning again.

Suddenly, their hands were covered in slime. They both jumped and looked down to see one of the adult goats had shoved their head through the fence to lick them.

“Eww…” complained Dean. “Alright, alright, we’ll feed you. Hey Cas, fancy getting some goat pellets?”

Cas nodded, wiping his hands on another tissue. He offered one to Dean, then retook his hand once it was clean. “Let’s go.”

They ended up using up all the goat pellets left in the vending machine. There were a lot of goats and it just didn’t feel right leaving any out.

 

“What happened to you two?” demanded Gabriel and Dean as both couples met at the exit at the end of the day.

“You’re the ones who went off and left us to do goodness knows what!” exclaimed Dean, shooting a look at Sam, who shifted and tugged at his t-shirt, unsuccessfully trying to hide something on his neck that looked suspiciously like a love bite.

“Well, you’re the ones who stink like goats!” countered Gabriel. “Geez, what were you doing? No, wait, I don’t want to know, it’s probably going to be weird as hell.”

Dean felt mildly annoyed by that, but nothing could really annoy him then. Not with Castiel’s hand snugly inside his. He wished things could be like that forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Where did the goats come from they weren't in my plan???  
> Wait this seems familiar...   
> Didn't a random goat turn up at the end of the highschool au as well... Hmm suspicious.   
> Also I can't write kissing scenes at all because I don't like doing it myself so yeah that's why that happened.   
> comments and kudos loved :3 near the end of this hellish thing :)


	11. Leaving

It couldn’t last. Gabriel didn’t know how he ever could have forgotten that.

Well, obviously he’d known, in the back of his mind that eventually Dad would call and they’d have to scram and leave behind the Winchesters, but it had always been _eventually._ There was no harm in making friends, or, uh, closer to boyfriend really, until then. He could just move on like he always did.

But somehow that had all gone wrong and when he got the text from Dad, just a short text, he felt a hole open up in his gut and realised that somehow, despite his repeated assurances to himself that it was just a game, he’d gone and gotten himself more than just a little bit attached to stupid Gigantor, and even Dean.

 And now they had to leave and they would never meet again. Oh sure maybe they would exchange emails and numbers and all that, like he had with the few friends he’d managed to make in his short stops at other places. They’d say they’d keep in touch and if he was lucky they might, for a few weeks at least. Then it would just be ignored messages and silence. It had all happened before and it would all happen again. Gabriel was sure of it.

“Pack your things,” he snapped to Cas, who was curled up reading the bible on the sofa. Gabriel was pretty sure he knew why. He just hoped Cas would have the sense to keep his mouth shut about the extent of his friendship with Dean. It was possible; he had been getting more lax about Dad’s rules, at least about eating too much sugar and going off with his brother, but the kid had no sense of what was and wasn’t okay to tell a nutjob father. “Dad texted, we have to meet him at the Exeter service station this afternoon.”

Castiel’s head snapped up. “We’re leaving?” he asked.

“Yep.” Gabriel was already unpacking the cupboards and shoving the stuff into the bags. Dad would flip when he saw how scrunched up all the clothes were but Gabriel didn’t really care. “We just have to empty the caravan, pour away the water we haven’t used and tell the desk people we’re leaving. Shouldn’t take long.”

“And say goodbye to Sam and Dean,” added Castiel, neatly folding all of his belongings before carefully packing them away. He didn’t look particularly upset about that.

“What’s the point? They’ll just forget us once we’re gone,” sighed Gabriel.

Castiel shook his head. “They’re our friends.”

Gabriel just snorted and continued packing. There was nothing he could really say that would convince Cassie otherwise. It was always like this when he made friends. He never learnt, they would always just give up sooner or later, generally sooner, but still he kept trying. Stupid kid. And lucky too. That kind of optimism, eternal belief that it would all be okay because Dad would look after them, sounded good.

 

It didn’t take long to pack up their things. All their life they’d been on the move, or ever since Mom died at least, but neither of them could really remember back then. So all their life they’d been used to being ready to move at any time, packing up stuff into a little bag and moving on again was second nature.

Gabriel made his way down to reception with slow, dragging steps. He knew he should hurry up, ripping off the band aid was less painful, but he couldn’t help dwelling on the past week, was it even a full week? He wasn’t entirely sure but it didn’t matter, all that mattered was he’d found someone he really actually liked, who liked him back. It wasn’t like he thought they were in love or anything, they barely knew each other, and he wasn’t asking for forever, just another day or so. Or a week. Nothing much. Why couldn’t he just get to know his first boyfriend, or whatever Sam was to him.

“Gabe! Wait a second!” Sam’s voice pulled Gabriel from his thoughts. He turned to see the floppy haired teen come bounding up, awkward grin plastered across his face. Something inside Gabriel twinged. He wasn’t used to anyone being genuinely happy to see him. “Cas just came over to say goodbye to Dean, he said you’re leaving already?” Now he was standing still, Sam’s excitable puppy mode faded into worry. “You’re not really leaving now are you?”

“Just checking out now,” Gabriel confirmed, nodding towards reception. “Dad texted just now so we’ve got to get moving.”

Sam’s face fell further than Gabriel would have thought possible. “Oh… okay…” He swallowed and then flung his arms around the shorter boy, hugging him tight. “I’ll give you all my details so we can stay in touch,” he promised. “I’ll miss you!”

With great effort, Gabriel shrugged the giant’s arms off him. “No you won’t,” he said bitterly. “Nobody ever does.”

“What?” Sam’s eyes widened as he stepped back, confused and hurt. “What do you mean?”

“Doesn’t matter.” Gabriel shrugged. He’d decided. Ripping off the band aid hurt less. Separation now would be less painful that the slow decline of messages he knew would otherwise come. Really, if you thought about it, he was being kind.

Before Sam could say anything else, Gabriel strode away to the reception, confident adult manner surrounding him like force field. All Sam could do was stand and watch him go.

 

Gabriel was completely done with Cornwall and everyone in it, so when Dean came running up to him, demanding to know why Sam was upset and threatening him in an astonishing variety of ways, the only response really applicable was, “Dean I swear to any deity you please that if you do not let me continue loading the pimpmobile I will get in it, run you over and ensure they inscribe your headstone with ‘Couldn’t handle the pimpmobile.’”

Dean’s response to this excellent threat was to repeat, “What did you do to Sammy?”

“Nothing.” It was technically true.

“Then why is he going on about how you hate him and don’t want to talk to him ever again after you’re gone?”

“Overactive imagination?”

“Don’t give me this BS. I know you have to move on and that’s fine. What I don’t get is why you can’t just exchange number like Cas and I did and stay friend, or boyfriends or whatever like that?”

Gabriel sighed, stopped trying to shove Castiel’s bee toy into the already full trunk of the Pimpmobile and turned to face Dean. “Have you ever tried it, kid?”

“Tried what?” he asked, barely noticing he was called ‘kid’ by a guy several inches shorter than him.

“Staying in touch,” explained Gabriel. “It doesn’t work. You say you will, you promise you will, maybe you even do for a while. You tell each other about your day and new things on TV or whatever and it feels like it’s working. And then maybe one of you has a couple of busy days and you don’t get the chance to text or call, but they shrug it off. Nothing important happened in those days after all, so you put off contact. It’s easier to talk to the people you were with on those days, they don’t need you to explain it all before you can discuss it. And then the same happens the next week, and the next, until it gets to the point where it just seems too awkward to try talking again because how do you explain the days, weeks, months of silence? So you don’t.” Gabriel took a deep breath. “You just… don’t.”

Dean stood silently for a few moments, both boys holding the other’s stare. He was doing the right thing, Gabriel knew he was doing the right thing, preventing contact so Sam didn’t have to do it himself. So why did he feel like hell inside?

“Sam’s different,” Dean finally said, quietly, but with conviction. Would he sound so sure if he knew how many others had said the same?  “And so am I. I know Castiel won’t give up on me, I won’t give up on him, so you don’t have to worry about that. And I know Sam wouldn’t give up on you, he’s not that kinda kid. So, the only real question is what about you?”  
“What about me?”

“Do you really want to give up the one chance you have to stay with Sam, at least in some way?” challenged Dean.

“It’s not that simple,” was all Gabriel could find to say. He didn’t know what to do, what to say, how could he make Dean, and more importantly Sam, see that this wasn’t what he wanted, it was just the best way of dealing with the inevitable? “I just…” he trailed off and turned away. He didn’t want to deal with Dean anymore.

Dean seemed to understand that much at least. “I’ll leave you to think about it,” he said. “But, just remember. You’re the first person who hasn’t shot down Sam immediately. That means a lot to him, even if you’re shooting him down now.”

It felt more like Gabriel was the one getting shot.

 

“Did you say goodbye to Dean?” he asked Cassie as they got into the Pimpmobile, voice full of fake enthusiasm.

“Uh huh,” nodded Cas, toy bee clasped on his lap. They hadn’t been able to fit it into the boot after all, something Cas had been particularly glad of as now he got to hold it all the way. “I got all his contact details so we can stay uh… ‘going out.’”

“Nice…” muttered Gabriel, unable to inject quite enough happiness into his voice, and quickly pulled a sweet from his pocket so he could chew on that and be excused from talking anymore.

Slowly, the pimpmobile crawled away from the metal box they’d called home for the past few days and down to the gateway that lead onto the actual road. He tried to concentrate on the route to Exeter, rather than anything else, and certainly not a certain Giantor.

Just as they were turning out of the caravan park, Castiel suddenly flung the door open and got out, stumbling a little because they were still moving. Gabriel stamped on the brakes and the pimpmobile stopped.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he demanded.

Castiel clutched his toy tightly and mumbled something Gabriel couldn’t catch. He sighed, put on the handbrake, and told him to repeat it.

“I’m not… I’m not getting in the car until you go and get Sam’s contact details!” Cassie managed, looking scared but with a hint of defiance.

The concept of a defiant Castiel was so alien for a moment Gabriel couldn’t understand. “Enough of this,” he complained. “Get in the car already we need to go!” When Castiel shook his head, there was only one threat left. “Dad will be mad if you don’t.”

That hit Cas, but not as hard as Gabriel had expected. He flinched, but didn’t make any move to get back in. “Who’s going to tell him?” he asked and Gabriel blinked. “I won’t. You never tell Dad anything, so you won’t.”

Under other circumstances, Gabriel would have been proud of his little brother. He was finally rebelling a little, just… why did it have to be now? And like this?

“If you don’t get in I’ll leave you here!” he tried.

Castiel shrugged. “No you won’t.”

“One…” Gabriel announced slowly, like the way you count down to get toddlers to do something. “Two…”

Nothing.

“Three… ugh dammit.” Gabriel gave up, he’d never gotten to three before, Castiel had always broken at two. Though apparently there was a reason this method was only used on toddlers.

“You have to go make friends again!” insisted Castiel and for a second he burned with determination so bright Gabriel could almost feel it. There was nothing he could do.

“I’ll… I’ll push you into the car myself!” he tried as a desperate last measure, but they both knew he wasn’t strong enough for that, not really. And anyway, a scene was the last thing he wanted.

They stayed like that in silence for another minute or so, Castiel stood casually outsides, looking around absentmindedly, Gabriel fuming inside the car.

After a bit, Castiel broke the silence. “He’s up there. You should do it now,” he said in an almost conversational tone. Gabriel looked to where he had nodded and saw Sam wandering around alone, not headed anywhere, not doing anything in particular. Lost. That was how he looked. And very alone.

Suddenly, Gabriel couldn’t take it anymore. He grabbed a pen from the glovebox and sprinted towards Sam as fast as he could.

If anyone had asked he would have told them it was because he had to get Cassie into the car somehow, but that wasn’t the real reason he tackled Sam with a hug, almost knocking him over, kissed him on the cheek, breathing in and storing away his smell, and scribbled his number onto his arm as quickly as possible.

“Gabe?” Sam exclaimed incredulously. “You... You changed your mind?”

“Obviously,” he replied with his usual irritating smirk™. “I would have thought a clever guy like you would have been able to figure that out yourself.”

Sam whipped out his phone and began carefully copying the number into his contacts. Gabe noted with some fondness that he was saved under ‘sugar sucker.’

“I thought you said you didn’t want to talk to me again, and then Dean came back and said all this stuff about how you didn’t want to lose contact and I just… Why did you change your mind?” asked Sam in a rush, looking down at him with anxiety clear in his eyes.

Gabriel didn’t know how to explain it. It wasn’t something he understood himself, and he knew it had to be more than getting Cassie into the car, but rather than try to explain the inexplicable, he just shrugged and said, “Cassie is refusing to leave until I make up with you and I really don’t fancy getting yelled at for being late.”

“Oh right,” replied Sam with a slight smile. It was obvious that he didn’t believe a word of it, which slightly offended Gabriel as he didn’t always lie, Cassie really was stood on the grass still, but Sam didn’t press the issue and he was incredibly grateful for that.

The simplest way to explain it he could think of was that somehow Sam was different. More special than anyone before, or after, could possibly be. But he didn’t have to tell him that now. If they really did stay friends, or boyfriends, or whatever then he could someday, when he wasn’t in a rush to get to Exeter on time, and he actually knew what was going on, and he wasn’t pretty sure Castiel had wandered nearer and was probably trying to listen in on every word.

“I have to go now,” Gabriel announced. “See ya?” It was more of a question than he’d intended.

“Of course,” Sam replied without hesitation. “I’ll text you later.”

And that was it. No tearful embraces or long drawn out kisses, because if they did meet again there would be time for everything then, and if they didn’t then well… There would have been no point. Gabriel walked calmly back to the Pimpmobile and got in. Castiel was already back in his seat, the picture of innocence. Engine on, handbrake off, the Pimpmobile crawled out of the caravan park and onto the road, where it began to pick up speed. Cornish fields and woodland sped past, baked in the already hot morning sun. The passenger window rolled down and a single hand snaked out, playing around in the rushing wind, swooping up and down as the brothers drove away into the sunshine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH GOSH WHAT WAS THAT IDK IM SORRY  
> Yeah that wasn't so weird and angsty in my head I apologize. Anyway, I finally reached the end I was originally aiming for all those months ago when I was in a caravan in Cornwall and couldn't sleep. So yeah, that happened.  
> Kudos and comments much appreciated thanks!  
> Also, that's all I had planned to do but as I was finishing up I got the vague half idea of like a mini prologue I might do but idk if anyone would be interested and I haven't thought it through and I kinda like not saying if they stay together or not so I might add an extra chapter at some point but yeah idk. If you have an opinion on what I should do about that then feel free to comment below :)


End file.
